Rewrite the Stars
by freetumnus
Summary: Legolas: the tireless warrior, the elf who longs for the call of the trees, and the faithful friend. Behind a person of great character there is often great sorrow, and if they are lucky, companions of great love. This story explores how love lost, and love regrown formed the elf of the War of the Ring. Spans from 1015 TA to after the LOTR. Slow burn eventual [Legolas, OC].
1. Chapter 1: The Singer of the Trees

**A/N This story is a take on Legolas's life. I am trying to keep as many events canon as possible, and will mainly focus around the events of the Fellowship, Two Towers, and Return of the King. I have obviously changed some things for a slightly different take, but I hope to keep the main story similar. I want to be clear, this is not a 10th walker story, OCs will only appear in times that it makes sense. Last note, is that I actually ascribe to the young Legolas theory, though for some of the events of this story I need him alive, so he is a tad bit older than I think he actually should be from his attitude in the books.**

 **Edit: A character design for Hurin and her initial meeting of Legolas is up on my profile! Also, this is turning into more about events surrounding the Necromancer, though I still plan to end it with the events of the Return of the King.**

Sindarin - in italics

 _Le nathlam hí -_ Welcome

 _meleth nín -_ beloved

 _imbas_ \- a bread that I imagined, using the root _im_ from flower, and _bas_ meaning bread

 _Man i eneth lín -_ What is your name?

 _i eneth nín -_ _ is my name.

 _Im_ \- I am

 _Adar nín -_ My father

 _Ada_ \- dad/father

 _mallorn_ \- golden trees of Lothlorien

 _nanneth_ \- mother

 _mellon_ \- friend

* * *

 _A little whos  
_ _(he and she)  
_ _Under are this  
_ _Wonderful tree_

 _Smiling stand  
_ _(all realms of where  
_ _And when beyond)  
_ _Now and here_

 _(far from a grown  
_ _-up i &you-  
_ _Ful world of known  
_ _Who and who_

 _(little ams  
_ _And over them this  
_ _Aflame with dreams  
_ _Incredible is)_

 _-E.E. Cummings (2 little whos)_

00

oo

00

 _1015 of the Third Age_

King Thranduil looked over at his wife Rían with all the joy and great love that becomes new fathers. He squeezed her hand, looking tenderly at their newborn son.

" _Le nathlam hí_." He whispered to the child, his lips caressing the newborn's brow.

Rían smiled warmly at Thranduil, perfectly content.

"What shall we name him _meleth nín_?" she breathed, looking back down at their son.

He peered out at the green forests and woods that surrounded their home thoughtfully. The palace, though thoroughly enclosed, had many windows in the Healing Rooms, where his wife lay now.

"He shall always have a home here, here he will always be loved." He turned back from looking out the window, meeting his wife's eyes, "Let us name him Legolas, after the beauty of his birthplace and love he will always receive in this place."

"Mmm, green leaf?" she gazed down at their child, contemplating for a moment, "This is a good name. I know he will bear it well." she finished as she again focused on her husband's face but a breath away from her own.

The little elfling gurgled, blinking his grey eyes, as though he also approved of the name.

Thranduil and Rían laughed. And for a little while, all was well in the heart of the kingdom of Greenwood.

oo00oo

* * *

 _1024 of the Third Age_

"Legolas! You will bring yourself before me this instant!" came a voice from below.

Legolas, from his perch in the trees, held his hand over his mouth to keep himself from giggling, giving away his position. He waited until the elf below him, the baker Galanbast, had left to continue his search elsewhere in the forest. As soon as he was past, Legolas pulled out the bread that he had braved the wrath of the baker for. He hadn't really stolen it, Galanbast had made his favorite bread for the celebration of his day of begetting, he just had happened to take some before the celebration. It just looked too tempting sitting on those cooling racks, waiting to be eaten.

He raised the bread up to his nose, inhaling deeply. It smelled as good as he remembered. He was about to take a bite when a voice interrupted him.

"Is that _imbas_?" a small voice coming from above asked.

Legolas' head snapped up as he scanned for the owner of the voice. A few branches higher in the next tree, a she-elfling was hanging upside down. Her silvery gray hair hung from her head as straight as the string on a bow. It was hard to tell much else about her as she was upside down, except that she had uncharacteristically green eyes. They were locked on the bread, her eyes filled with what looked like hungry longing.

"Is it?" she asked almost reverently, as she pulled herself right side up and crawled lithely on her branch closer to him.

Legolas put the bread back in his pocket protectively. " _Man i eneth lín_?"

He felt a bit like he was being circled by a predatory wolf, though that emotion was not as strong as his confusion. Elflings are relatively rare, especially ones who looked as young as he. This time of life lasted approximately 50-100 years, and with the great spans of time in between births, there were rarely more than 2-3 elflings in Greenwood at a time. He knew that he did not know this face. Now that she was right side up, he noted that she wore much brighter clothing than the most elves of Greenwood. Other than that, she looked like a typical elfling, lithe body, with just a hint of baby fat still in her cheeks.

The young elf plopped down on the branch next to him and put her hand over her heart seriously. "Húrin _i eneth nín_. _Man i eneth lín_?"

Legolas peered at her quizzically, before cautiously answering " _Im_ Legolas."

Her face looked confused for a moment, then a look of recognition flicked past her eyes, before she broke into a wide smile.

"Oh! Son of King Thranduil?"

He nodded, still thoroughly confused.

"Happy day of begetting Legolas! _Adar nín_ and I have traveled from Lothlórien to partake in the feast of celebration tonight." She peered thoughtfully upwards before continuing, "I also believe that they thought we might meet. You are about to be 10 years of age, yes?"

Still cautious, Legolas nodded quickly, still peering with slightly narrowed eyes and defensive posture towards Húrin.

She continued to smile warmly, "I am on my 7th year, with the beginning of the 8th coming presently in the next month. I am excited to meet you, Legolas. I am the only elfling under 100 years in Lothlórien at present. I often feel as though the elder elves cannot decide whether they want to coddle me in my youth or hurry me into maturity."

Legolas relaxed a little and gave her a lopsided smile. "I have oft felt the same, though I have a few companions of my age, I see them rarely."

He pulled the _imbas_ out of his pocket before breaking off a small piece and handing it to her. "I am also glad to meet you Húrin."

She looked in awe down at the bread and slowly reached her hand out towards it. She brought it slowly back to her, before sniffing it and letting out a sigh of contentment.

"Do like _imbas_ that much?" Legolas asked with a chuckle. He thought that she looked kind of cute, truly like a child as she gleefully tore into the _imbas._

She turned to look at him, "Truthfully Legolas, I have never had it. The flowers that are baked into this bread do not grow in or around our woods. I have only heard _ada_ speak of it. He said it was much softer than our bread and tasted of all the sweetest flowers in nature."

Popping it into her mouth, she closed her eyes, looking like she was slowly savoring the small piece.

She opened her eyes wide. "This is all _ada_ said it to be."

Legolas looked uncomfortably guilty down at the rest of his bread, fiddled with it a moment, and then put the rest of it on her lap. "Here, you can have the rest."

She looked up at him in astonishment, "No, I couldn't possibly! You worked quite hard to conceal yourself from the baker elf to obtain this bread. You should enjoy it. It is also your day of celebration. I am content with being able to taste it."

She held out the _imbas_ for him to take.

He shook his head, "I merely took some prematurely to the feast. It will be overflowing with _imbas_ , so I shall have my fill later. Indeed, it is my favorite bread and it can be made here in Greenwood quite often."

She hesitated, but just for a moment. Almost quicker than he could track, the bread was gone. He looked up at her face to see her cheeks were already full and she looked at him with a slightly sheepish face before her closing her eyes again in delight.

He burst out laughing, and though she eyed him sorely, she was too caught up in her happiness to really give him a scathing glance.

 _It is good to have one as young as me for once_. Legolas thought to himself.

After she had swallowed, she turned to him and asked brightly, "Since we have already met one another, Legolas, what is it that you do here in Greenwood?"

He looked up thoughtfully. "I often explore the woods, and have been exposed to many of the arts we practice, archery, horse riding, sculpture, music, and the reading of legends. What do you do in Lothlórien?"

She responded by thoughtfully cocking her head, as if considering something. Then, slowly, she took his hand and placed it against the tree trunk. Her hand rested on his, keeping it there. She closed her eyes.

"Do you hear that?" she murmured softly.

Legolas closed his eyes, and listened. Something began creeping on the edge of his mind and seemed to be trying to make its way in, like the soft thudding of rain on a roof. He couldn't interpret it, he just knew that it was there. He opened his eyes and jerked back his hand. Wide-eyed, he looked at her.

"What is that?" He asked, slightly alarmed.

She looked at him with much more intensity than a 7 year old should be able to muster, "That is the tree, she is speaking to you. She is wondering if that other elf on the ground was looking for you."

She closed her eyes and placed her own palm against the tree concentrating, "She thinks he was rather angry and is worried for you."

Húrin looked at his bewildered face and chuckled, "I was just getting to know these trees when you showed up with your bread. It seems as though not many have spoken with them in a long time. They are edgier and more protective than the _mallorn_ that live in Lothlórien."

"You...talk to trees in Lothlórien?" Legolas asked with an eyebrow raised.

Húrin looked back at the tree, ignoring his skepticism, "I do not have many friends Legolas. I often find myself drawn to the streams and trees that our within our borders. I happen to find trees easier to understand than the running of the streams is all."

She stopped abruptly, seemingly concentrated on the tree trunk again and looked directly at him, "People are looking for us, we should return."

He looked back at her quizzically, but decided he should probably leave anyways. It was about time that he head back to his home in order to get ready for the celebration. He began to climb down the tree, before he felt her hand grabbed his forearm.

"Where are you going?" Húrin asked.

"You are right, it is time that I left. I'm going to get down from this tree and return home."

"You do not need to get down from this tree in order to return home. I believe it is even faster if you stay aloft."

He looked at her strangely. _This is a very odd elfling. I wonder if it is because she is from Lothlórien, or if all other elflings are this strange._

As if to assuage his doubts, she stood up on the branch and began to deftly move through the branches, sometimes stepping, sometimes a mix of jumping and climbing. She stopped, turned around, and smiled at him.

"Come! It is more fun this way!" She smiled.

Legolas clambered back up onto the branch. She had moved through the trees with more natural ease than a runner looked on land. Enticed by her demonstration, he stood up on the branch. It did look pretty fun, and he believed himself deft enough to follow her steps. He looked at the branches and followed her steps exactly, step for step, handhold for handhold.

She smiled at him, "You are a fast learner. Follow me."

He eagerly scrambled after her as she continued to make her way from branch to branch, tree to tree. He could feel the movements coming easier and easier to him, and he began to even be able to guess where she was going to place her foot next. His pace quickened, and soon he was striding next to her instead of following her steps. She noticed the change and gave him a playful grin.

"Shall we race?" She challenged playfully.

He grinned back, and without a word, began to move through the branches with more ferocity. She gleefully looked after him and began to move through the trees in earnest.

It only took a few moments for Legolas to realize that he had made a mistake. She had been only going slowly so that he could catch her movements and follow. His newfound confidence had been as one who had just learned how to walk, while she had long mastered that. She was a runner. There was definitely a little clumsiness in her movements that comes from being so young, but then Legolas still had a bit of that too. The movements weren't as fluid as they could be, and realizing this, Legolas moved as quickly as he could, trying to at least keep her in sight. He followed the flowing, leaping tresses of gray through the canopy, in awe that one of her braids didn't get stuck on an outcropping branch. Despite his best efforts, the gap was growing larger and larger as he fell farther and farther behind. And then, suddenly she disappeared from view and he heard a yell followed by a soft thump.

A shot of fear ran through him and he dashed as quickly as he could through the treetops to where she had disappeared. He looked down slightly panicked, searching for her. She was laying on the ground, rubbing her head and coming up to a sitting position. He quickly descended the tree.

"Húrin! Are you well?" He clambered down next to her.

She looked at him sheepishly as she stood up, wincing a bit.

"I am well Legolas. I thank you for your concern, but it was my own overconfidence. I have taken much worse tumbles out of trees before."

Standing next to her, he still felt a bit concerned and took her hand as he lead her at a walking pace in the direction they had been traveling in the trees. They walked in silence for a few minutes before he heard her sigh to herself.

"I'm afraid that I've become too comfortable in the forests of home. I know the trees well, and when I traverse their branches, they often move and sway to accommodate my movements." She looked around at the forest, "I'm afraid these trees do not give me the same handicap and I have become lazy in my steps."

Legolas looked at her, thinking hard. He still wasn't sure how much he believed about this tree business, but he was beginning to warm to her, even in her oddities. The way she had moved through the trees was not only quite useful, but a wonderful skill to watch.

 _Perhaps, today, I have made a friend._ He smiled to himself as he let the thought ruminate in his mind.

"So, how do you do it?" Legolas asked, curious, and somewhat skeptical.

"Do what?" Húrin cocked her head.

"Talk to the trees."

"Oh, I suppose I just listen." she stated matter of factly. " If you look outside your own mind, you can sense them, they are much like sentries, slow and solid. Their thoughts are not long in coming. I can hear others too, but not as clearly as the trees. I think that they are the least afraid to open their minds."

Legolas thought that this answer was not much of an answer at all and wasn't really sure if he believed her still.

"How did you know to open your mind?"

"As I said, I spend much of my time exploring the woods and streams of Lothlórien. I sometimes wondered if they're as lonely as I was...so I would sing to them or tell them stories. We kind of...keep each other company you could say. I grew to know them better than I knew any elf. I know every new budding branch, and bird nesting amongst them. One day while I was climbing in the trees, I wasn't paying attention and stepped on a branch that couldn't support my weight. I grabbed another branch in time, but I had snapped the other one under my foot. I suddenly just had this sense that something on the edges of my mind was angered. I was startled at first, but realized quickly that it was coming from the tree. I apologized to it, but I wasn't sure it could hear me, so I thought I would try to spread the feelings in my mind to it, just like it had sent anger towards me. As soon as I tried to open my mind to it, I could sense hundreds of thousands of pinpricks of lights in my head. Oh, I wish you could see it Legolas, it's beautiful, the colorful and varied tapestry of sapience and life, all dancing amongst one another!" She looked at him wide-eyed with joy.

He glanced over at Húrin, noticing the happiness that pooled behind her green eyes. They were so different than that of the older elves. Older elves always held equal parts sadness and joy in their eyes. When Legolas had asked about it, they said that it came from living so long and seeing many things that both warmed and scorned the heart. He had never really looked into the eyes of another elfling before. They held such wonder, though he also thought he saw grief hidden deep within them. He found himself wishing the journey home was a bit longer, if only to stay longer in her company.

He mulled over what she had said and suddenly had a thought.

"Can you see my mind?" He asked.

Húrin paled. Looking at him warily.

"Why-why do you want to know?"

He didn't notice her sudden change.

"I just thought it would be cool! Like we have a secret between _mellon_." He said smiling.

Her eyes lit up as she heard the word.

 _Friend?_ She thought with hope. Her mind mulled over the word, wrapping around it. She did not want to lose it. _Friend._

She cocked her head and closed her eyes, allowing him to lead her for a bit.

Legolas began to feel something tickling at the edges of his mind, like a bundle of thoughts that seemed strangely foreign to him. The tickle became a soft touch, and then a warm firm hold. He began to be able to discern images, one of him upside down on a branch about to eat his bread. There were good feelings associated with the image.

He looked at her with wonder. "Are you doing that?"

She opened her eyes blearily, and nodded. He noticed she was sweating slightly, and her footsteps seemed a bit more shaky.

"It is much harder to concentrate on an elf-mind. It is much more complex and difficult to enter." she said hoarsely. "I might not have been able to do it at all had we not been touching."

Legolas just nodded, both intrigued and slightly exhilarated. He secretly kind of wanted to try again, though he feared tiring out Húrin. It did not seem as though he could enter his mind easily, and it also seemed as though he could only see what she wanted him to. It did not seem to him like an invasion, but rather like attaining a secret language.

They soon reached the heart of the elven living spaces in Greenwood and Legolas let go of her hand. She flexed her fingers. She had never done that before, held hands for such a length of time. She found herself feeling more uneasy now that the spaces between her own fingers were vacant.

Legolas turned to her, "Where are you staying? I can walk you there before I return home."

"I am staying at your residence, assuming you are staying with your _ada_ and _nanneth_. We can walk together." she smiled back, happy that she would not have to leave her new friend.

Legolas was surprised, but not shocked. Many visitors came and stayed in the palace, though this made him wonder if she was more prominent in Lothlórien than she was letting on.

Maeglin, one of the king's guard, rushed upon them as soon as they entered the grounds of the palace.

"Legolas!" called out Maeglin as he strode forward briskly. "Your father has been searching for you for the past hour! There are many in the woods looking for you at this moment. Where have you been?"

Legolas looked sheepishly at Maeglin, "I have been exploring the woods with my new _mellon_. We may have lost track of time."

Húrin had not missed that Legolas had referred to her as friend again, and though she looked ready to be chastised by Maeglin, she inwardly smiled.

Maeglin looked with piercing at eyes at Legolas, assessing his answer, before turning the same gaze towards Húrin, who was also working hard to avert his gaze.

"Very well. We will speak of this later. Though you, elfling," he gestured at Húrin, "have also been called for. We must make with haste to the conference chambers. Both of your parents are waiting for you along with Lord Elrond and Lady Celebrian."

Legolas and Húrin exchanged an uneasy glance before slowly following Maeglin into the palace.

 **Let me know what you think! Things are still fluid in the coming chapters. I'm also finished with the rough sketch for the character cover, it features Legolas and Hurin grown. Check my profile!**


	2. Chapter 2: The Elven Council

**A/N Thanks for everyone who followed or reviewed :D This one is for you guys! I'm going to try and speed up the timeline soon. There's a lot of groundwork to lay, and I hope you'll bear with me as I lay it down haha. Once again, this is a take on Legolas's life, though sometimes we will be focusing on Hurin as I develop her more.**

Sindarin - in italics

 _iell lín -_ your daughter

 _Hîr nín_ _-_ my lord

 _imbas_ \- a bread that I imagined, using the root _im_ from flower, and _bas_ meaning bread

 _ada - father_

 _elleth_ _-_ she elf

 _Mae tollen_ \- welcome

 _Glass nín gen govaded_ _-_ It is my joy to meet you

 _Ion nín_ \- my son

 _mallorn_ \- golden trees of Lothlorien

 _nanneth (lin)_ \- (your) mother

 _Meleth nín_ \- my beloved

* * *

 _"So do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us."_

 _-J.R.R. Tolkien (The Fellowship of the Ring)_

00

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 _1024 of the Third Age_

"Elrond, she is only a child. A mere elfling who has not yet reached her 8th year. I believe that waiting would be prudent." Thranduil advised. "Our lands are in not so dire need that a youngling must be put in danger."

Elrond looked sternly at Thranduil.

" _Hîr nín_ , a shadow is beginning to fall on Greenwood. Sauron is rising. His power grows stronger as he gathers himself and his armies. We must take heed. Galadriel has even given her counsel on this matter. This position does not even mean the child's life will be threatened."

"Can she not be trained more? Teach her to use a bow and a sword. Though it is not the endangerment that I fear. She must take to the country, travelling, and be separated from her family. This is not a small request." Queen Rían admonished.

Elrond looked with a piercing gaze at the King and Queen. "I only think of you, our people, and our protection."

CelebRían looked at him with tenderness and touched his cheek with her palm, "Think of Arwen. Would you ask this of her?"

Elrond stopped, and considered for a moment before answering, "I would ask her for her people. But I would not make the decision without her consent."

"Darkness grows in the borders. There is something stirring in Mordor, calling orcs and other foul creatures. They are growing more and more bold. I am afraid friend Thranduil that if you do not act soon, these woods will become murky, darkening the life-bearing green. I do not speak of only choosing to act on the abilities of Húrin, but of your own son as well. " Elrond continued gravely. "I know in my heart that he has a role to play in this. The path to preventing bloodshed is tread by the shrewd and the swift."

A tall elf, with silver hair and a gentle face, had been keeping curiously quiet during this exchange, following the speakers with his eyes. Now, he strode forward, commanding the attention of the others.

"Húrin is _iell lín,_ I never wish her to see such times, where a sword is as needed as the songs we sing. But her future belongs to her and her alone. I would not stand against that future being given to her people, though I know it would be one of great sacrifice. That is a choice that she should make. Her years are few, but her heart is strong."

"Your words are wise Methedras. As _ada_ of Húrin, we will abide by your counsel." Thranduil pronounced.

Just then, there was a knock of the door. Thranduil moved to open it, and Maeglin, Legolas, and Húrin filed in. Maeglin gave a swift bow towards Thranduil, who nodded at him, before he strode back out.

All eyes fell on the young elflings, and Húrin felt herself reach for Legolas' hand again for courage.

Thranduil strode forward, "Húrin," he bent down so he was face to face with the small _elleth_ , " _Mae tollen_. I am King Thranduil of Greenwood."

She smiled, shyly, and nodded back to the king, " _Glass nín gen govaded_."

Her hand gave Legolas' a little squeeze, as if asking that was the correct thing to do. She received a small squeeze of encouragement in return. The king stepped back, taking his place by his wife.

Elrond then stepped forward, bending down in front of Húrin. "Hello little one. I have heard tell of you, that you are a tree singer."

Húrin cocked her head, "What do you mean?"

"You are able to speak to the trees youngling, can you not?"

A look of understanding came over her. "Oh…"

She considered for a moment before speaking.

"I do not know if you would call it speaking. I can feel their minds and am able to hear their response to my own. Though I now realize that the _mallorn_ of Lothlórien are much different than the trees of this forest. I have sung to them for over a year now, and we have an understanding. They give their trust easily. They network, and I can hear one as freely as another. Here, there are many different kinds, ash, birch, oak, and the like. They do not network or share their minds as easily with each other or myself. I am also still new to them, and they are reticent to offer their sentience to me."

As she finished, she looked around the room and realized that everyone was looking at her with faces of either astonishment, wonder, or slight amusement. She shrunk back a little and looked at her father for approval that she had said the right thing. He nodded at her, smiling a bit, though the smile did not touch his eyes.

Elrond spoke with gravity etched in his voice, "Have you noticed anything else about this forest young one?"

She thought again for a moment.

"The trees are all unhappy I suppose you could say. I was surprised, because I know the Eldar always care deeply for the forests they live in. Then I believed it to be because there are few tree singers in Greenwood. But after spending some time listening, I think they feel as though something is...mmm…" she searched for the right word "growing? I think that's the best way to put it. They feel almost as though something is sucking the light the the elves have always bestowed on them."

Elrond glanced pointedly at King Thranduil, who was looking with concern at Legolas as Húrin was speaking.

CelebRían's eyebrows were knit together with concern, "Húrin, would you be able to tell if there were foreign creatures living in the woods, by speaking to the trees here at the palace?"

Húrin looked at him debating something in her mind, and then said slowly, "I'm not sure I can in these woods, but I am willing to try. I would need to spend time with them. Were we in Lothlórien, I could do so without hesitation."

Elrond nodded solemnly. "What you have Húrin, is a great gift. Many elves sing in the forests and can communicate with the trees. As you already know, the elves were the ones who first taught the trees to speak. But you, young one. To not even be of 8 years and have your consciousness open to so many living things is a wonder. Can you open your mind to other beings? It may have come for such a time as this."

"We cannot assume that." interjected King Thranduil as he glanced with warning at Elrond.

Húrin gave a panicked glance at Legolas before mumbling, "I can feel their presence but cannot communicate." as she dropped her eyes.

Legolas tried not to glance at her in confusion. There must be a reason why she would hide something from Lord Elrond. He felt it was not his place at the moment to reveal her.

He then looked around the council of elves with questioning eyes. He could feel there was a lot of tension in the room. There were meaningful and testing glances being thrown about the room by their elders that made both the elflings feel very uncomfortable.

Methedras stepped forward this time, "Húrin, Legolas," he commanded the attention of both elflings, "A shadow falls on Mirkwood. It is possible that Sauron, the dark Lord is rising. We have met as a small council to decide how we should meet this coming threat. You are both more important than you know. _Iell nín,_ with your gift, no enemy could come into our forests without alerting you. You alone could keep the woods safe. Legolas, as a prince, and future leader of your people, we have been discussing whether you should be groomed for war. There are many paths we can take, and we must tread wisely. There will be time for training and the taking of positions later, the decision is and always will be yours. If it is Sauron, then he is still very weak, but as you have seen in the trees Húrin, some power is growing."

There was silence again in the room. Queen Rían gently brushed her husband's arm before kneeling before the elflings in front of Methedras.

"Have you the heart to take this up young ones? There is no shame in waiting until you are ready, for that is when you will be at your best." Rían asked with sad, solemn, yet loving eyes.

Legolas and Húrin looked at one another with evident indecision. How could their parents ask for them to make such a big decision? This must be very serious to have almost all three leaders of the elven kingdoms together. They didn't feel that important. It seemed like everything was happening much too quickly. If it was indeed Sauron, then this was not a threat to be taken lightly. But they were not even 20 years of age combined. What could they possibly offer to the thousands of years of wisdom that were in that very room? Much less, their people.

Húrin seemed to find great interest in the ends of her silvery hair and began to fiddle with it, her small face scrunched up in concentration.

Legolas looked down at his shoes for a while and then took a deep breath. He was the prince, he was a leader. He should decide first. He dropped Húrin's hand and stepped forward boldly.

"I do not feel ready." He stated, trying to inject his answer with as much confidence as he could.

The elder elves nodded in understanding, though Elrond's nod was longer in coming and much shorter and sharper in nature.

Húrin looked up at all the elves around her, and then at Legolas, who was standing with confidence, meeting the gazes of his elders.

"I also do not feel ready." She said softly into her hair.

"Though I would be interested in learning more of the forests, away from Lothlórien. That would make me more useful would it not?" She quickly added, still mumbling.

King Thranduil looked down at Húrin, "Of course young Húrin. Our house would be honored for you to stay with us as long as you are willing."

The elves nodded again, and the tension in the room seemed to dissolve. Húrin looked up at her father again, hoping once again for affirmation, and was met with a warm smile that spread into his whole face. She smiled to herself and adjusted her stance to try and look at confident as Legolas did.

"I believe that concludes our council for the moment." Elrond sighed. "Besides, the young prince should be getting ready for his celebration should he not?" He added with a smile.

Legolas started a little, in the intensity of the discussion, he had totally forgotten. He bowed before the elven council and tried to hurry out of the chamber.

"Take Húrin as well Legolas, we will be but a moment." King Thranduil commanded.

Legolas bowed again and took Húrin's hand again as he lead her out of the room.

There was silence again in the chamber. It continued to build as the elves mulled over what had just occurred.

Finally, CelebRían voiced the question they were all thinking, "When will they know they're ready?"

Elrond sighed, and a sadness came over his face, "I fear that it will be only after they have lost something of great value."

oo00oo

* * *

Húrin found herself being dragged down the hall at a rapid pace. Legolas's face was away from her, but she could tell that he was unsettled by what had just occurred. If she was being honest with herself, she was too.

She had never dreamed that her everyday conversations with the trees could be the subject of scrutiny in a war meeting. Her legs were slightly shorter than Legolas' and she found herself half running, half-walking to keep up with his quickened footsteps.

"Wait, Legolas. What just happened?" She stopped, bewildered. .

He turned to her with a grimace and gripped her hand tighter, pulling a little. She lowered her eyes, and then began to move her feet again, hoping that he would explain once they got to wherever they were going.

They turned corner after corner until Húrin was sure that she was hopelessly lost, and just when she thought that this palace must be larger than the entirety of Lothlórien, they stopped in front of a set of double doors.

"Quickly, in here." Legolas hissed as he all but flung her inside the room. Glancing furtively behind him, he slid in through the door and closed it softly behind him. Húrin stood confused, feeling very small and very disoriented.

Slowly, she turned to look at the room Legolas had brought them to. She blinked her eyes a few times, and realized that she was in paradise. Her very own version of paradise, though she had not realized that she longed for it to exist before this moment.

Before her stood a beautiful indoor garden, lit by the light of a tree in the center that seemed to glow like starlight, giving the room a soft glow. Overhead, an arch of purple flowers grew, hanging down like beautifully soft icicles that swayed as she reached up to touch them. There was a clear path, laden with carved white stone, leading to a small grove of what looked like tall bushes of star shaped flowers, deep yellow and flecked with brown like cinnamon. The area was so covered in plants that Húrin could not tell how the room was shaped or how deep it went in. There was a small stream, that also seemed to glow, giving off its own light as it tumbled from a small purposeful hole in the wall towards the back of the room. It wound around all the flowers, lighting up the underside of every bush and tree so that there was almost no shadow in the room. She looked back at Legolas with amazement.

"What is this place?" she almost whispered.

He smiled softly, obviously still perturbed by recent events, but he looked a bit more relaxed as he surveyed the room.

"This is my favorite spot in the palace." He responded, turning towards her, "You are not the only one who grows lonely in the company of older elves. It is meant as a garden for the Healing Rooms which are just down the hall. Many of the plants which grow here are rare and very useful for healing many different ailments. Though, I confess I do not know any of them or what they might be used for, I still enjoy their quiet company. We are not supposed to go in here, as we may accidentally harm some of the plants, but I thought it might be a good place for you, especially considering your…um" he faltered, "...gifts."

Húrin winced a little, and then turned back to look at the beauty around her. "How are we to know when we are ready? I did not mean for my speaking with the trees to turn into this. I do not know what is expected of me." She finished, her hand brushing a vine near her, as though she hoped the plant would reach out and comfort her.

Legolas walked up next to her and took her hand, also looking out into the garden, "To be honest Húrin, I do not know either. But more than that, I want to do what is right, and I do not feel like we are ready now. I think we have made the right choice for now. Do you?"

He was slightly worried to hear her answer, and though he stood by his decision, he did not like the idea that he had chosen for her, or forced her into anything hastily.

"I do." she sighed, and then smiled wryly. "I suppose, we are in this together then, Legolas?"

He smiled back at her and placed his other hand over his heart. "Indeed, my lady."

She looked at him in surprise and then began giggling, trying to smother it behind her hand. Legolas looked confused for a second, and then also broke out into a fit of laughter.

In between deep breaths, trying to catch her breath, Húrin chided, "You have seen me fall out of a tree and hang upside down, I hardly believe that you can address me as lady, my lord."

At that, he scrunched up his nose, "Yes, I think it is best if we avoid those terms." He then withdrew a little from her.

"Anyway, I must be getting down to my chambers to get ready. I have stalled long enough. Your rooms are down the hall from these, third door on the left. Do not let anyone see you here." And with that, he turned and strode out of the room.

Húrin watched him go, and then turned her attention back to the garden. She was slightly saddened that Legolas had not offered to help her explore it, but she was so excited to look around that it was a small loss. The very first thing she wanted to do was to talk to the glowing tree. She approached the tree slowly, reverently, and then placed her palm gently against its trunk. She closed her eyes and concentrated deeply, opening her mind.

oo00oo

* * *

Legolas hurriedly ran through the halls to his room. He would need to change clothes, properly braid his hair, and then wait for his _ada_ and _nanneth_ to bring him to the banquet hall as was their usual habit on such begetting days.

He continued to ponder the events of the day, wondering what it would be like to be groomed for war. All elves were trained to fight, study strategy, and to use weaponry, but it sounded more serious the way Lord Elrond had talked about it. He didn't really know how he felt about fighting in general. All life was so sacred to him, it didn't sit well with him at the moment. But then again, he had never met or seen an orc, troll, dragon, or any other being that actually wanted to harm him.

He dressed in the traditional garb of Silvan royalty, a long tunic of silver with the slightest tinge of blue. It was deeply embroidered and had a high collar that had a small rope gold thread clasp in the front. As for boots, he decided to just settle for some that weren't dirty, he did not have much desire to wear anything else. He then began to tend to his hair when he heard a knock on the door.

" _Ion nín_ , may I come in?" Rían peered through a small crack in the door.

" _Nanneth_! Come, please." he motioned.

She stood behind him as he struggled to tame his hair into the braids he was forced to wear on special occasions. Rían calmly put her hands over Legolas' and stilled his attempts. She then began to slowly smooth his hair, untangle, and braid it. He placed his hands defeatedly in his lap and pouted.

"I don't understand why I have to wear these every year."

" _Meleth nín_ , many are coming to celebrate you and the 10 years of life you have yet had. You would do well to honor them with small things such as this. For though an elf need not look well kempt to be of good heart, it shows that he is well loved when he is well presented." She smiled playfully. "It particularly makes them look warmly on _nanneth lín_ , for who else would put up with the all your protests and squirms. It should be known that someone loves you well enough to care that you look like a princeling, my Legolas."

He laughed sheepishly, having realized his whining was a bit selfish. The last thing he wanted to do was to reflect poorly on his parents. Which is exactly why he was so worried about his decision to wait on his "grooming for war".

" _Nana,_ am I being selfish?" He asked. "Not wanting to start being groomed for war. I do not even come of age for another 90 years. But, I do not want to disappoint _ada_ or our kin. I do not know what to do, and I am afraid that if-"

He was stopped by warm tight hug from behind. Rían, her arms still encircling him, moved around to his front, clasping him on his shoulders.

"Do not allow fear to make your decision, nor your desire to please me or _ada_ _lín_. Elves driven by fear or by the will of others often make hasty and immoral decisions. Let your desire to do good, protect your kinsman, and bring the world into peace sway your mind. Do not forget this _ion nín_."

Legolas nodded slowly. He did not fully understand, but he hoped to. He still very much felt fear and a strong urge to please his parents, but perhaps that was all the more reason not to rush into anything now.

"Come, let us go so we can begin the feast." Rían gestured towards the door.

They walked out of Legolas's room and into the hall. There, Thranduil met them, laying a hand gently on Legolas's head smiling at Rían. She smiled in return, her eyes only fixed on him, and brought her hand up to lay on rest on the crook of his elbow. The three walked together down the hall, their little family ready to celebrate together with their kin.

* * *

Húrin fussed, pulling her dress down, and fidgeting with her sash as she waited in the banquet hall. Her father, gently placed a hand on her shoulder, trying to calm her, and she stopped messing with her dress. Though her hands would not stop playing with the front of her sash. She didn't mind dresses, they were comfortable, and she only wore them when the occasion did not call for being in the trees. She also thought the the mature Eldar ladies looked like sparkling starlight when they were robed in dresses. Her dress for this occasion was of a soft green, to honor the Silvan heritage of Legolas, with a muted yellow sash that hung in a V tied in the front. That was the part of the dress with which, she couldn't stop fiddling.

If she hadn't been agitated already, her conversation with Telperi, as the great silver tree inside of the palace had called itself, had made her even more anxious. She must speak to Lord Elrond. She had already told her father, but he had insisted that the news could wait until after the banquet.

Her eyes flicked to the great hall which Legolas and his family were to come from in the very front of the banquet hall and then back down to her hands. It was a bit hard to see from where her and her father were placed. They were not a family of prominence, and more than that, Húrin felt almost as though Lord Elrond and King Thranduil did not _want_ to cast attention on them.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, Legolas, King Thranduil, and Queen Rían emerged from the hall. Legolas looked quite different when he was well groomed Húrin thought. His hair, which had been wild and unkempt, now hung straight down on the sides of his face.

"My kinsman, I thank you for honoring my son with your presence today on the day of his begetting!" King Thranduil began, with cup raised, "We are overjoyed at your company and look to the future with great hope for Legolas' 10th year of life."

With that, everyone raised their glasses with a cheer. Legolas looked slightly embarrassed and slightly excited as he took in all of the faces that were turned toward him with merriment. Húrin wondered if he noticed whether she was there or not.

Her thoughts were quickly turned however, when she smelled a sweet smell coming from the kitchens, Before she had time to fully process, she saw huge platters of _imbas_ being carted out and placed on every table. She looked up to see Legolas putting as much bread as would fit onto his plate. King Thranduil gave Legolas a stern look in vain, as he was too enthralled by the bread to notice.

Húrin smiled to herself and munched on the bread herself. She was still nervous and a little fidgety, but as she could do nothing right now, she decided to try her best to enjoy the feast. Most elves engaged most of her father, though several of the elves came over to fawn over her. It seems as though the other younglings that Legolas had mentioned were all male. They had not seen a child she-elf in quite some time and Húrin did her best to engage them with genuine enthusiasm.

This went on for a few hours and Húrin began to feel as though this banquet was never going to end. She looked up at Legolas, who looked to still be enjoying himself. She tugged on her father's sleeve and gave him a pleading look. He nodded his head slowly and then returned to conversation with another elf.

Húrin snuck out of the banqueting hall and walked through the palace until she was outside. As the mirth and merriment of the elves in the hall behind her faded away, she suddenly felt very alone, and very small. Staring up at the sky, she recounted the same constellations that hung over her home, tracing them with her fingers.

"Do you often look at the stars little one?" a voice asked from behind.

She started, and spun around. Lord Elrond was close behind her, also staring at the night sky. She relaxed a little, but not totally, his position was already quite intimidating to her. Combined with his intensity in the council, she felt rather uneasy around him.

Turning back to the stars, she answered, "I find them comforting. They do not change wherever I am, and are beautiful in their twinkling. I can always count on them to be there, same as they always have been."

Elrond gently placed his hand on her shoulder, "You seem to gravitate towards things that are steady young Húrin. Stars, trees, anything solid and immovable. Many men believe that their fate is determined by the stars. I do not believe that elves believe much the same, but it is a rather poetic notion. I find comfort in the strength of elves and men who choose good. Though I understand your feelings about faithfulness and consistency. I believe that it is because of your mother, is it not?"

Húrin widened her eyes for a moment in shock, before she closed them sadly. "I did not realize. Though I do find great comfort in things that do not change, that are reliable."

Her eyes then flew open again, with alarm. She turned quickly to look up at Lord Elrond, "Lord Elrond, you must listen to me! I forgot to tell you. I went into the healing gardens and met Telperi, the great silver tree that dwells there."

"The great tree bears the name Telperi? That is most interesting…" Lord Elrond pondered, gazing into the distance for a moment, then turned back to her, "Tell on Húrin."

"He says that great power has recently come to Middle Earth from over the sea. Telperi cannot tell whether they are for good or for ill, nor how many of them there are. Three have passed through his woods, and they spoke of others. One has resided here for a long time and the other is headed toward Greenwood as we speak! Telperi does not believe he knows that for which he searches, but is using an art in his tracking to find us."

Elrond looked at her gravely, "This is news of great importance Húrin, I must tell Thranduil at once. Do you know anything else about this newcomer?"

She shook her head, "Only what his companions call him."

"What is his name Húrin?"

"Olórin." she whispered back.

oo00oo

* * *

 **There it is! The second installment! Let me know what you think (:**


	3. Chapter 3: A Little Flame

**A/N Hey guys! This took a little longer to get out. It was pretty tedious to write because all three chapters so far have not even spanned one day. I also have been re-listening to the unabridged versions of the books and am getting more ideas! With more ideas come greater inner author conflict T_T haha. But thanks for waiting guys! Here is the third chapter!**

* * *

 _Elven - in italics_

 _ada_ \- father

 _henig_ \- child

 _Galathrim -_ people of the trees (generally referring to people who lived in Lothlorien)

* * *

 _Two sturdy oaks I mean, which side by side,_  
 _Withstand the winter's storm,_  
 _And spite of wind and tide,_  
 _Grow up the meadow's pride,_  
 _For both are strong_

 _Above they barely touch, but undermined_  
 _Down to their deepest source,_  
 _Admiring you shall find_  
 _Their roots are intertwined_  
 _Insep'rably._

 _-Henry David Thoreau (Friendship)_

00

oo

00

 _1024 of the Third Age_

Húrin and Legolas had looked on with a mix of fear and curiosity as elves assembled and rushed around with only whispers being exchanged in muted tones. They had been ordered to stay in the heart of the palace, away from windows or entrances as they were the only elven children present.

Minutes stretched into hours as Legolas and Húrin nervously fidgeted making some small talk, but for the most part, worrying about what was going on outside. They didn't hear shouts, the whizzing of arrows, or the clash of swords, so everything must be okay at present. But as they both knew, things could change in a moment.

After what seemed like an eternity later, King Thranduil and Lord Elrond reappeared.

"Legolas, Húrin, there is someone who we would like you to meet." King Thranduil said as he motioned them to come forward.

Legolas hesitantly stepped forward, which prompted Húrin to timidly do the same. King Thranduil and Lord Elrond looked expectantly towards the door as what appeared to be an old man robed in grey walked in.

He wore a pointed hat, and was slightly shorter than the average elf. He carried a staff that he leaned on a little, and his beard was long and white.

The young elves looked on in wonder. They had never seen a human before. Much less, one with a beard! They both had an achingly strong urge to reach forward and touch it. He also had some striking differences to their kin. He did not shine with the subtle light of an elf in his face or heart, and his face appeared aged, something they had no way to comprehend. But his eyes were still as sharp and striking as cut diamond. Legolas wondered if all men had such features in their faces.

King Thranduil bent towards Húrin, while gesturing towards the man, "Young Húrin, is this the man that Telperi sensed in his woods?"

Húrin was still astonished by the man's appearance, and it took a moment before she focused on what the Elven King was asking her. She closed her eyes and opened her mind again. Without any physical contact with another living thing she found it difficult. She instinctively reached out a hand to ground herself against the trunk of a tree like she had done so many times before. Legolas noticed the motion and reached out his own hand, knowing that she was probably struggling like when she had tried to sense his own mind.

Elrond noticed the gesture and raised his eyebrow curiously, though only the wizened old man seemed to take note. The Lord elf also noticed that young Húrin was concentrating exceedingly hard, so hard in fact that sweat was beginning to bead on her forehead.

"I…" she seemed to be struggling with something, "I, believe he is. His light feels familiar to the one I saw in the mind of Telperi. However, I am not entirely sure."

She gasped the last part of her sentence out and looked as though she may faint from exertion. Her hand dropped limply from Legolas's as Elrond stepped forward and braced her. He then coaxed her to a chair where she plopped down gratefully.

King Thranduil continued to eye the old man, "You claim you are sent from the Valar some years ago, yet we have not heard tell of you in our lands before today, grey traveller. On what errand do you seek out this company of elves?"

For the first time the grey figure spoke, his voice was like deep water. It was low and contained fathoms within it, though you could not tell whether it was for good or for ill just yet.

"I am Olórin. One of five sent by the Valar from Valinor across the sea. We have been sent in order to stop the rising of Sauron." He stopped as he looked at the faces of the King and Lord Elrond. "I see from your faces that the rise of Sauron is not news to you. You have felt his shadow growing here in Middle Earth?"

King Thranduil nodded his head with some evident difficulty, "We have noticed that a darkness has grown. Lord Elrond has the gift of foresight, and everything has been clouded from his gaze here in Greenwood. That is why he has come from his own land of Rivendell. We knew that there was a force at work here. But if what you say is true, then our greatest fears have been realized."

Olórin looked at the elves gravely. "And what has this fear driven your hearts to do?"

"We had not been certain that it was Sauron who was returning. The power was weak, and there was no evidence brought to light that the enemy was indeed Sauron himself. Even now, we have only the word of a gray pilgrim, Mithrandil." replied Elrond skeptically.

The gray figure lifted his staff, and with a voice that seemed to multiply throughout the room and shook the very trees to their core. "I am Olórin! One of the five Istari sent by the will of Manwë, woven of the very music sung by Ilúvatar in the beginning! You will find in these claims no lies."

Even as the reverberating in the room seemed to stop, the young elves felt as though they could not stop from a slight tremble. King Thranduil and Lord Elrond stood their ground, peering sharply at Olórin's eyes, who looked back with equal intensity.

Húrin felt herself wonder how many times in one day she would find herself feeling small and intimidated in a room of feuding grown elves.

Finally, the silence was broken by Thranduil, "I see the truth and wisdom in your eyes, _mellon_ wizard. The timbre of your voice does not lie. You are welcome here in Greenwood. I hope you will look on our scrutiny with a kind face for we Eldar are very hospitable to those who stand against Sauron."

The wizard's somewhat humble appearance returned almost frighteningly quickly, "Apologies are not necessary, though I do wonder how your scouts were able to so quickly perceive that there was one wandering far from here. I assume that not every grey cloaked traveller is brought immediately into audience with the King of Greenwood. What is it that you know? Perhaps it is the foresight that you have spoken of?"

Legolas immediately glanced back at Húrin who looked as though she were trying to disappear into her seat.

Elrond took the strange man gently by the arm and slipped into a tongue that neither Húrin, nor Legolas understood. They slowly began to walk towards the room's exit. As they walked, Thranduil gave a small nod in their direction as though they had done well, and were dismissed.

Legolas and Húrin lost the rest of the conversation as the King, Elrond, and the one called Olórin were now too far away, leaving Legolas once again slightly shocked and very discomforted.

Once he recovered, he looked over at Húrin to find her already up and walking out of the room.

"Wait, Húrin, where are you going?" He called out, trying to catch up with her.

She peered back at him.

"To fly." Was all she said with a straight face and then proceeded to rush out.

Legolas, undaunted, continued to follow after her, and grabbed her forearm as he caught up. She turned back to look at him again, this time with curious eyes.

"May I come with you?" He asked, hopeful.

She gave a curt nod and continued walking quickly. He strode alongside her and soon they were out in the open air. Húrin wasted no time and leapt off of the railing of the palace and landed nimbly on a branch. Legolas studied the jump for a moment before launching himself into the air as well. It was exhilarating, and yet terrifying as well. He glanced up and saw that Húrin had already continued on to the next branch.

He struggled to keep up, Húrin was truly doing what she said she would. Flying through the trees. This was not the natural grace that was bestowed among all elves, this was something else. More natural, more earthy, almost as though she were a tumbling leaf in the wind, effortly navigating the branches in the treetops. He guessed though that she was not going at top speed after her fall earlier that afternoon, but much faster than when she was teaching him.

Húrin for her part was allowing herself to be engulfed by the trees. She could feel their consciousness, and now they allowed her own to join theirs, becoming one continuous light. The trees felt her frustration, her fear, and her exhilaration from being amongst them and now they embraced her. They were responding to her movements, if only subtly for now. Time fell away, all that was was the rush of the wind and the pale moonlight turning the leaves that parted in front of her to liquid silver.

After some time, her arms began to feel themselves again with weariness, and she slowed down. She heard sounds behind her and turned to see Legolas, far back, but still within sight. She stopped to catch her breath and peered up through the thick branches. It was a clear night and she could just make out the stars. Legolas landed softly next to her, and peered upwards at the stars as well.

They sat silently for a few minutes, both lost in their own thoughts.

"Can you hear them now?" Asked Legolas, breaking the silence.

"The trees?" Húrin questioned, turning away from the stars to address him.

He nodded.

She nodded back, "They have opened themselves to me more. I begin to feel that they only really speak with me, when I am feeling unwelcome with other elves. Perhaps they also feel forgotten."

"Can you...teach me?" Legolas faltered for a moment. He had been thinking, and in the past few hours an idea had occurred to him that brought him comfort about his and Húrin's situation.

"Teach you?" She asked cocking her head.

"Yeah…" replied Legolas, looking slightly hesitant. "I would like to see, how you see."

She smiled hesitantly back and took his hands in hers. "Close your eyes."

They sat facing one another in the tree and then the black of night was replaced with the darkness of his closed lids.

"Concentrate on where you are." Húrin instructed. "Allow your mind to roam to the wind that passes between us, the bark we sit on, and the swaying leaves. Listen for all of their voices. At first it will only be vague emotions, but they should begin to straighten themselves out into linear thoughts."

Legolas felt rather silly, but allowed his mind to wander. He tried to picture the scene he was in as though his eyes were opened again. He reached out to ask the tree how it was, and how the leaves felt being battered about by the wind.

Minutes ticked by. He concentrated until he was pretty sure that he had strained a muscle somewhere in his head. He felt nothing. Not even the tingling sensation that had bordered the edges of his mind when he had first tried to make contact with Húrin. There was absolutely no sign of spark, light, or life outside of his mind when he reached out for the wind, and the trees. He let out a slight huff of exasperation, which Húrin caught. They both opened their eyes, and Húrin looked thoughtful as she studied his exasperated face.

"Hmm, perhaps you need practice with something you are more familiar with. You now know the touch of my mind. Perhaps you can find it. I would think that this would be more difficult, as it is difficult for me, but perhaps it may not be that way with you. Try to sense my mind's light this time. Reach for me."

He nodded quickly and again closed his eyes. This time he found that he was beginning to feel his own mind, its shape, boundaries, and roominess, like a large dark cavern. He felt familiarity there, a soft warm blanket of thoughts that enveloped him. He felt as though he did not want to leave. But his mission was to find another mind, and for that he must look outside himself. He thought about Húrin and how full of life she was. He wanted to know her mind. A soft light seemed to flicker from outside his minds edges, like a beacon through a foggy haze as he concentrated. The small light flickered into a flame, warm, and inviting. But he knew would have to open his own mind to be able to see it more clearly. He hesitated, slightly afraid, and slightly exhilarated. His mind opened slightly, and immediately snapped shut again, his mind rebelled at the thought of being opened. It recoiled like a rubber band that had been stretched too far. He felt too vulnerable, anything might enter, and he was wholly unprepared to allow just anything to invade his mind.

Legolas peeked at Húrin to see that she still had her eyes closed, and was breathing at steady intervals, patiently waiting for him. He sighed inwardly. He must just try again.

Straightening up and bolstering his resolve, he shut his eyes again, this time delving directly into his mind space. He once again felt a calm and again looked outside the edges of his mind to his borders. He saw the light, flickering just as it had been. Very slowly, he extended out toward it, like a probing hand or thought that cast out toward the light. He hesitated before reaching it, and then slowly began to examine it, enveloping and probing very gently.

He immediately felt a surprise, and then elation emanating from the light, an intelligence that he recognized. The light intensified within his mind, just as a squeeze on his hand and a small gasp shocked him out of his meditation. His eyes fluttered open to reveal the night sky again.

Húrin's eyes were wide open, and something between shock and a huge smile were on her face. "Legolas…" she breathed.

He smiled at her and threw his hands into the air, "I did it! I found you didn't I Húrin!"

She smiled tentatively back at him and then nodded.

Legolas stopped his celebration, staring at her confused. "Are you not happy?"

She grimaced a bit, "I am…" she said slowly, pausing for a moment. "I, I suppose I am mostly confused. I have found that the minds of creatures with more sapience are difficult to read for me. Though they appear as lights in my mind, I cannot cast out to them as you have just done with any semblance of ease."

Legolas peered at her skeptically, it seemed as though she were holding something back. Something else was bothering her, fear lurked in her eyes that had not been there before. Though nothing that had happened that whole day really made any sense to him, so perhaps he was imagining things. She shrunk a little under his gaze, but did not offer any more explanation.

Legolas opened his mouth to ask if she wanted to try again, but was interrupted by a shout in the distance.

"Húrin! Legolas! Where are you?"

Húrin's head snapped toward the sound. "It is my _ada_. We should go."

She quickly descended the tree, as Legolas followed. Húrin seemed to be concentrating slightly and began guiding them underneath the moonlight with confidence in her steps. Legolas could tell they were not heading towards the palace, and then realized that she must be using the trees to guide her to her father, wandering in the woods.

"I am here _ada_!" She yelled into the darkness.

Legolas could now also hear the soft tread of a grown male elf. Methedras came into view and Húrin stopped short in front of him.

"Húrin, I thought that you may be out among the trees. It has been a trying day has it not?" He said gently as he tousled the hair on Húrin's head.

Húrin nodded sadly, and slowly walked forward until she was hugging his knees, her face buried in her father's robes. Legolas averted his eyes, feeling a bit like he was intruding on a private moment.

Methedras looked up to see Legolas turning away, "Young prince, and how are you faring today? I understand that you have also experienced much hardship today." he extended his hand in invitation.

Legolas moved to take the invitation, "Many things have happened today. I am still sorting through them all."

Methedras nodded in understanding and then looked back down at Húrin who was still clutching at his robes.

"Let's walk back to the palace, _henig_. I think we could all use a rest."

She sniffled a little and then began to walk slowly toward direction of the palace. They all walked together in companionable silence. Though Legolas noticed that though Methedras held his hand, he had not reached out for Húrin's, and she in turn had also not tried to grab his.

The palace was still well lit, and there seemed to be a lot of activity, which was not uncommon. They parted ways, Methedras and Húrin to the guest apartments and Legolas to his rooms, Methedras again wishing him a happy day of begetting, while Húrin said nothing.

He changed clothes, took out his braids, and rested on a dais that looked out into the forest. As he was slipping into his meditative dream state of sleep when he realized that he could still feel something with his mind. A small flicker on the edge of his consciousness, he sat up a little, confused, and scanned his room. Nothing. No one was there.

He lay back again, settling into his meditative state, and again, he became aware of the small fire, burning brightly just outside his mind. It was familiar, and yet he hesitated, confused by this new presence that welcome or unwelcome revealed itself to his mind. He carefully probed outward towards it. The moment he touched it, he knew.

He could still feel the flame of Húrin's mind.

oo00oo

* * *

"Húrin, how does your your heart fare?" Methedras asked with kind eyes, as they continued to walk towards their rooms.

Húrin remained a silent for a little and then, "I am afraid _ada_." she whispered.

He nodded in understanding. "Do not let your mother be your guide in such matters. Though I love her deeply, she has given you wounds which will teach you naught but fear. It is not a lesson I wish for you to learn well."

She looked up at him expectantly, hoping that he would stand by his words and extend his hand towards her as he used to. But though she wanted to believe him, she saw that he would not touch her still. She sighed inwardly, and then dropped her gaze, nodding like she had accepted his words and not noticed his rejection.

They arrived at their room, and Húrin lay down on the dais closest to the forest, hoping to dream that night of running along their branches and getting to better know their thoughts. Methedras tarried about in her room, straightening things and generally fussing before he left her in peace.

Her mind would however would not leave her alone and peace eluded her. She could not help going through the day over and over.

Suddenly, she shot up in her bed, eyes wide. Something was trying to speak to her mind, and it was not a tree. It had too much sapience for that. Instead, she felt the soft, gentle touch of an elf mind. She had only felt one before, Legolas' and she was almost sure that it was him now.

But how? He was so far away, they were not even touching, and she could not do this from even a close distance. She allowed him to know her confusion and slight frustration. She felt an equal confusion reverberate against her mind and also a peace that seemed to engulf her mind and soothe her. Somehow she knew, this was not something that Legolas was feeling, but rather something he was trying to project to her. The emotion was like listening to a babbling brook, steady, flowing, and sure. She projected her gratitude towards his consciousness and was slowly lulled into the dreamlike state by the slow winding waters his mind.

That was the first night she dreamed of Legolas.

* * *

Olórin sat in the great library in the palace, perusing scrolls and taking his own careful notes about what was already known to the elves as well as what ought to be known. He was also mulling over the decisions of the council he had just partaken in. He had revealed to the King, Thranduil and the one named Lord Elrond the existence of the five Istari, their names, their strengths, and their missions. In turn he had been made aware of the existence, though not the location of the 3 elven rings, their nature, and something else quite interesting.

Some elves were born with natural abilities that were foreign to the world of men. Abilities or affinities of the mind that could be trained and honed over time to produce a great power. The value of Lord Elrond's foresight could not be overestimated, nor Galadriel's ability to communicate with her mind, or even the gift of young Húrin, the guardian of the trees, one of the _Galadhrim_.

He agreed with Elrond that though she requested time before she became more active in the quelling of Sauron, she should remain in Greenwood all the same to learn the trees here, where the shadow was darkest. He would remain as well for a time. There was much to learn, and to be gained from being amongst the Eldar. He even was growing fond of the nickname they had given him, Mithrandil, the grey pilgrim.

oo00oo

* * *

Thranduil came into Legolas' apartments quietly, hoping he was still awake. He carried with him his begetting present that he had not been able to present due to the arrival of Mithrandil. He looked over to see Legolas laying motionless on the dais, eyes open, but peaceful.

He smiled, and then turned to lay the present on a side table. He very gently placed the beautifully carved bow and white feather tipped arrows on the table, allowing them to rest on the wall. Perhaps they could start training tomorrow.

oo00oo

 **There you have it guys! Go ahead and leave me a review if you enjoyed it or if you feel like it could be better in some way! As I said, I am going to be speeding up the timeline now, so get ready for that! Haha (:**


	4. Chapter 4: Departure

**A/N Hey guys! I apologize again for the long delays in writing. Things have been super busy and it doesn't look like they'll let up any time soon. I will try to update once a week. I can picture it all in my head and am really excited to get these out to you :D. I also finished Hurin's character design as a child, there's a link on my profile. Just as a reminder, throughout this and previous chapters, Legolas and Hurin will look about the same. Elves reach maturity physically around 100 years, at 30ish, they will still look like children. Happy reading (:**

 _Sindarin -_

 _mellon -_ friend

 _mallorn -_ golden trees

 _elleth - she elf_

 _imbas -_ flower bread

 _novaer -_ good-bye

 _le fael -_ thank you/you are generous

 _Na lû e-govaned vîn -_ until we meet next

 _Savo 'lass a lalaith_ \- have joy and laughter

 _Guren glassui mellon roch._ _Im iest cin horth- a safetui -_ Run swiftly friend horse. May your journey be safe.

 _ada-_ father

 _nanneth_ \- mother

 _Hantanyel órenyallo -_ I thank you from my heart.

* * *

 _Afoot and light-hearted I take to the open road,  
_ _Healthy, free, the world before me,  
_ _The long brown path before me leading wherever I choose.  
_ _The earth expanding right hand and left hand,  
_ _The picture alive, every part in its best light,  
_ _The music falling in where it is wanted, and stopping where it is not wanted,_

 _-Walt Whitman (Song of the Open Road)_

00

oo

00

 _1049 of the Third Age_

"Faster Legolas! You are almost there!" Húrin threw back a cheeky smile and continued to streak through the trees, branches moving to aid her steps, carrying her faster through the canopy.

Legolas glared back defiantly as he huffed to keep up with Húrin. _If these uncooperative trees were not aiding you mellon, I would have already caught you_. He thought towards Húrin, for he did not have the breath to spare.

Húrin continued to dance effortlessly through the branches laughing, as Legolas, strode as quickly as he could, which was quite fast after 25 years of practice. He was now faster than any of the other elves in Greenwood with one exception. Húrin. He liked to pretend that it bothered him more than it actually did, it was a fun part of their banter. In the time where he had been learning to cruise through the trees, he had grown close to Húrin. Their minds were never far from one another, even if they were out of sight. They merely had to reach out with their minds and once again feel the comfort of the other's presence. Also quite strangely, it was much easier for Legolas to make the connection than Húrin. She still needed to concentrate fairly hard, and for her skin contact made it much easier. They had kept it a secret from Elrond, though at times he would look at the two of them as if he knew something. But he had long since returned to Rivendell and the two young elves had revelled in their close companionship. Legolas and Húrin had originally thought that this meant he may share Húrin's gift, but Legolas had failed to ever make contact or even see any other lights in his mind. This was a great mystery to the both of them, and Húrin had several theories about it that she often mused about. However, with some training from Húrin, he had learned how to project more specific thoughts, to the point that they could speak into the other's mind if they so chose. Húrin had said she had learned a little on how to project words, which were more difficult than feelings or pictures, from her time with Galadriel in Lothlorien.

 _Do not fool yourself Legolas, you could not beat me in a race if I had both my legs tied._ Húrin thought back at him. He thought he caught a small smirk.

She vaulted over a branch and disappeared into the higher canopy, something only a young, light elf could do. Legolas smiled at the challenge and leaped up to continue the chase. Húrin for her part had greatly enjoyed her time in Greenwood. She finally had company other than the trees, though she now had spent more time in this forest than her home's trees. She greatly missed the _mallorn_ , who grew with such vibrance that they almost hummed with life and sapience. These trees needed a little bit more coaxing. Though she had not returned to Lothlorien, her father, had traveled back and then again to Greenwood several times throughout the past 20 or so years. Húrin had not felt obligated to stay, though the solemn eyes of Elrond before he parted made her feel that it was the prudent thing to do. She could feel the shudder in the trees, she had already begun to feel the trees tense up, they were wary of something, and there were faint whispers of intruders. Whether because she was too afraid, or she honestly did not feel ready, Húrin had not asked any pressing questions of the trees. She knew that in time she was to become the keeper of the woods, so she merely conversed shallowly with the trees, allowing them to keep their secret fears to themselves.

Húrin broke through the last branches into the open air and landed nimbly on the ground. She spun around to shame Legolas with yet another victory.

"And the winner is, Húrin!" she shouted, sounding also a little smug as she raised her hands in victory.

Legolas soon shot out of the trees, and landed deftly beside her. He pretended to sulk but couldn't keep the smile off his lips for long. It was difficult to be angry after you have just flown.

"I believe that you owe me another _imbas_ cake." Húrin said, leaning forward towards him.

He continued in his mock sulk, "Húrin, if you had not used the trees to aid you, you never would have won. It is nothing short of cheating."

"Aww, are you saying that using your natural abilities is cheating, Legolas? Perhaps we should have your limbs shortened so that they are equal to mine, as well as your wit sharpened?" she questioned in a lighthearted manner.

Legolas laughed, "Ha! You think that my stature is equal to your ability to tell the trees to spirit you along? A elfling who was asleep could accomplish victory with help from the trees."

"It does not matter whether you are right or not about that. I still have earned my prize." Húrin stood confidently as Legolas shook his head and chuckled.

"Very well, we shall go to the kitchens and I will ask the bakers to prepare some with dinner tonight."

 _Though, they were planning on making breads tonight regardless of this victory. I have already requested it since you are leaving Húrin_. _And with my mother as well._ Legolas thought sadly. Though he didn't project the thought so that it touched her mind.

They both felt it was about time to head back towards the Halls of Greenwood, and though they laughed and talked the whole way back, their minds never touched.

oo00oo

* * *

The day passed in a blur and soon the sun was once again rising in the east. Húrin was standing next to her father, looking slightly sad, though her eyes still held a brightness. Legolas had suspected some time ago that she had a longing for home. He was sure that she must be bouncing up in down on the inside, the thoughts of her mind crashing in on one another creating a whirlwind of excitement. He wasn't sure though, they still had not touched minds since their last race in the woods the day before which was unusual for them.

Methedras was saying farewell to some elder elves, making his way down a line of elves which ended with King Thranduil, Queen Rian, and Legolas. Húrin felt excitement rise and fall within her as a tide takes and retreats from a shore. She could not wait to see the gold of the _mallorn_ and be in the same city of Lady Galadriel again. However, she was going to miss Legolas, the closeness, and familiarity of his mind. She also was anxious to see if she could still sense his mind from so great a distance. She had trouble even locating him when he was out of sight. It would be nice if she could still have his company in Lothlorien. Though much to her surprise and joy, Queen Rian was also accompanying them to Lothlorien. It was not as good as Legolas coming, but it was a welcome surprise. Húrin wasn't quite sure why she was coming, but Queen Rian was a lovely _elleth_ , gentle and kind. She was very much looking forward to spending time with Legolas' mother.

Mithrandil had also been one to come and go throughout the past two decades. When he came, he also brought news of other lands and peoples, though he often conversed with the elven king in a speech that she did not understand. She and Legolas both looked forward to his comings and also in equal parts to his goings. He also looked at the two young elves for just a moment too long, as though he also guess their connection. Another quality that made Húrin uneasy was just how brightly Mithrandil's light showed in her mind. She felt as though she may have been able to converse with him with less difficulty, but the sheer power and brilliance that came from his mind frightened her. She had only feared two others as she feared his, Lady Galadriel and Lord Elrond. But he was always kindly to both elflings, and she both revered and feared him. According to what she had been told, he would also be in Lorien when the company arrived there. Being in the same room with both Lady Galadriel and Mithrandil brought a mixture of nervous anticipation and excitement.

She was broken out of her musings by King Thranduil stooping down in from of her, " _Novaer,_ young Húrin. I hope that not many days shall pass before we see one another again."

She bowed her head and curtsied. " _Le fael,_ I also hope to return to your Kingdom soon."

Then Legolas stood before her, his eyes fixed on a small package in his hands.

"I," he started with uncertainty, "I, thought you might get hungry on the road…" he trailed off while proffering his package towards her, looking away.

She looked at it questioningly, and gently took it. She opened a medium sized cloth pouch to find what looked like a pile of leaves.

"It's _imbas_ that I wrapped in leaves. I know that keeps _lembas_ good for many days. I don't know if it works the same but…" He offered, nervously rubbing his arm, still looking down.

She smiled and with her free hand took his. _This is perfect Legolas. Because it is from you, I may even not eat it to keep it as a reminder of my mellon from Greenwood._

He looked back at her and smiled as well, clasping his other hand over hers. _Na lû e-govaned vîn_ _Húrin._

 _Savo 'lass a lalaith._ She thought back. In the thought she also tried to demonstrate her deep gratitude for his friendship and a small hint of the sadness she already felt at her leaving. He responded with similar emotions, and let go of her hand slowly.

She turned towards the horse that King Thranduil had provided. Being still a child, and much too short to climb up on the horse, she placed her hand gently on the body of the horse and closed her eyes. Legolas had no doubt that she was introducing herself to the horse and also getting acquainted with who he was. Though normally more intelligent beings were generally more difficult for her, all elves had a good relationship with horses and rode them bareback, using only their connection and songs to give direction. So it came as no surprise to anyone when the horse knelt down and allowed her to climb on his back.

 _His name is Edegil._ The horse shook its mane in indignation. _Though he wishes you to know that he achieved that name by his swiftness and far travels. He has been to all 7 ruined cities of men that the ringwraiths came from.._ Húrin projected to Legolas. _He promises that we will both ride safely and swiftly to Lothlorien. He feels that you are concerned._

Legolas chuckled slightly and laid his head slowly against the long forehead of the horse, whispering softly. " _Guren glassui mellon roch._ _Im iest cin horth- a safetui_."

He drew back gazing still at his mother and Húrin. His eyes, though tainted by sadness, were bright and Húrin had to turn away to keep from shedding tears. Soon the whole company was ready to leave, and Legolas found himself waving goodbye, desperately trying to keep track of Húrin's mind. The flame was still bright, burning just outside his mind, he knew that he need only reach out to touch it.

He turned towards his father, "When do you think they will return _ada_?"

King Thranduil remained quiet for a time and then replied slowly. "They will be safe...for a time." He then turned to Legolas, "And when they return, our work must begin in earnest. For our forest grows darker with each setting of the sun. The nights grow colder, and the shadows, longer."

Legolas shivered internally, but tried to maintain a brave face for his father. Amongst elves, he knew that royalty did not mean the same as it did in the stories of men. He was not better than any other elf, and thus was not made out to be as such. However, in times of war and unrest, where the natural inclination of elves to create, to love, and to satisfy their curious minds was thrown aside, a commander was necessary. He would not show weakness, not even here in front of his father. If dark times were coming, he would make himself ready to meet them. He thought of the quiver and bow that his father had given him and clenched his fists.

 _We will be strong, for our people. Do you not agree Hurin?_ He thought out into the space outside his mind. But all was dark, and Legolas was again, truly alone.

oo00oo

* * *

The road to Lothlorien was long, but mainly wound through Greenwood which allowed Húrin to often dismount and follow from above in the trees whenever riding became tiresome for her. They passed without event mainly, aside from seeing small tree woven villages of elves where they would tarry for a night. King Thranduil had sent messengers ahead of them and thus, they were welcomed at each stop and often given provisions as they parted. Húrin could barely contain her excitement of being in Lorien again. Though as her excitement grew, she also felt a growing fear creep into her mind as they rode farther and farther south.

As they passed over the Mountains of Mirkwood, even the horses began to stir slightly in a nervous jumpy fashion. The company took to singing in turns to keep them calm whenever they became unnerved. Húrin greatly enjoyed these times as many of the forest creatures would peek out from under bush and birds would flock in the trees, almost creating a hall of living creatures who looked on the party in greeting. It was during one of these times that Queen Rian leaned over to Húrin.

"Húrin, do you not sing to the trees, and understand their speech of reply? Perhaps you could turn the malice of this forest away from us. Though I enjoy the songs of our kin, I believe that we shall run out of songs before we reach the Lothlorien." She said gently and with a smile in her words.

"My Lady, I ask your pardon, I had not been conversing with the trees much on this journey. I can feel their foreboding, and though I would readily take away malice, I do not believe it stems from them. They are in fear and the evil is from another source. Would you like me to question the trees in this matter me lady?"

Queen Rian quickly shook her head, "If there is an enemy that is able to threaten even the trees, longstanding in the forest, than I do not believe it is the duty of the youngest and most vulnerable in our party to go in search of it." She paused as the guard in their party finished her song. "I have noticed that you have not sung yet Húrin. I would love to hear a conversation between you and the trees. I have known a few tree singers of Greenwood, but they all passed long ago in the Battle of Dagorlad. None have been amongst us long enough to attain their level of skill, and it has been many years since I have heard the songs of the trees."

Húrin paused and then gave a small bashful smile, "If my Lady asks, then I do not see how I could not."

She lifted up her voice and began to sing. To all elves of the company, it seemed as though there were no words, only long lingering notes, so bright and real that energy was moving between Húrin and everything around her. Some notes were extended and other smaller bright notes would trill in between. Somehow every note seemed to perfectly describe the forest they were traveling in and brighten it as Húrin passed through. No one could say for sure, but for a brief moment, an elf's keen senses would catch a chorus in return, but the moment they came to focus on it, it vanished from hearing. To any who asked afterwards, if they were asked to describe her song in one word, it was this: life. The only elf who did not seem to be lightened by the melody was Methedras, who kept his face carefully impassive, though Queen Rian noticed his eyes seemed to shine, like they were wet with unshed tears.

All too soon, the song was over, and the forest, through still richly trilling with the last notes of Húrin's song, fell into silence again. No one spoke a word, not wanting to break the spell that Húrin had put over the trees. Húrin seemed not to notice that any were looking at her, she sat straight in her saddle and seemed to be listening, her eyes glassy and unseeing.

When she finally seemed to return from the trance, Queen Rian reached over and placed her hand softly on Húrin's hand.

"That was truly wondrous Húrin. I have naught heard a song more full of the vibrance of life from an elf ten times your age. The song called out to my own mind as well, though I could not understand what you were conveying."

"I am honored that my song brought such joy to you, my Lady." Húrin said with a slight bow. "I was telling the trees of my friendships, with the _mallorn_ and with those I will miss in Greenwood."

Queen Rian nodded, "I could feel tinges of sadness in parts. Though Húrin, the vitality that you carry in your song also makes me believe you could be a great healer. You understand beings from within and call to life those things that should be revealed. This is a great skill which can mend hearts and bodies if you learn to control it."

"You say this knowingly, are you a healer my Lady?" Húrin asked with slight awe.

Rian nodded again. "I have been with Lord Elrond and with Lady Galadriel learning many of the arts of healing from such great wielders of power. I have also had much practice when many of our kin fell at the end of the Second Age. I am want to say that I was able to save too few of them. However, through that tragedy I became very skilled and learned much about the art. I fear that I may not be able to help you very much in your use of your special talents for the sake of healing others, but I may be able to guide it as I understand the nature of healing."

Húrin rode on thoughtfully for a time and then, "You honor me again my Lady to offer me much of your time and knowledge, but if I am to be a protector of this forest one day, I must devote myself wholly to the art of the warrior. I would not want to dampen my ability to slay our enemies by mixing it with the art of preserving life."

Sorrow crept into the eyes of Queen Rian, but not disappointment. It was an old sorrow, the kind that had already been present in one who has resigned themselves to an unwanted future.

"I understand that a great burden has been placed on you Húrin. But you would be no less a warrior for saving the lives of those you are to protect, instead of cutting down those who would oppose the good."

Húrin fell into silence, partially because she was worried of making Queen Rian sadder, and also because she was confused about her own feelings on the subject.

Sensing that the discussion was drawing to a close, Methedras' horse sped up to be near Queen Rian's.

"Isn't it true, my Lady that we will pass through the old capital of Greenwood, Amon Lanc?" Methedras commented, trying to subtly change the subject. Húrin shot him a grateful glance.

"It is. The woods are still formed to our dwellings, though no Eldar live there now. We will be there within a day's time. Oh, there are great wonders there that were grown and sung by the old tree singers. You can see the mark of Oropher, father of Thranduil throughout the whole of the city. I believe that you, young Húrin, would be in great wonder to see it."

"I-is that the abandoned elven city to the southwest?" Húrin asked nervously.

"Yes. Though it seems as though something troubles you?" Queen Rian asked, cocking her head in confusion.

Húrin looked away and spoke carefully. "I-I have heard whisperings in trembling tones from the trees. They fear something in what they call, the abandoned city of the elves. I am not sure we should venture into such a place. Could we not skirt around its edges?" Húrin managed to squeak out. True to her own fears she had not pointedly asked the trees what was going on in those parts. She allowed their terror to enlarge her own, and she could not bring herself to put names to her growing fright.

"The trees were not specific as to the danger?" Rian asked gently, though there was marks of slight skepticism in her voice.

Húrin hung her head in shame. Feeling a coward, "I…" she started, "I had not the heart to ask."

Methedras looked over at Húrin knowingly and with sympathy, though she did not find comfort in his gaze, only shame. How was she to be protector of the woods when all of the responsibility merely made her crumple? She felt like she was suffocating under the weight. There were things that only she could find out, only she could do, and by that logic, only things she would be to blame for if she failed. A burden that had grown a little in her mind every night since the council had told her of the growing darkness and her part to play in it. Now it threatened to crush her, knowing just how close the danger was.

The Queen, sensing the turmoil in the young elf brought her horse right up next to Húrin's and said softly into her hair as her arms wound around her waist. "Young Húrin, you are braver than you know. We have asked for you to carry a heavy burden much sooner than any child should have to. I know you feel the gazes of the Eldar looking in hope to you, but that is all they will look. Hope. We do not wish to shame you. Bravery comes from protecting those you love, not shaming into battle, or duty to slay enemies. We are all proud of you Húrin, truly."

Húrin listened with her face still forward, trying desperately to cling to the voice and allow it to drown out the nay-sayers in her mind. To hide her shame, she turned her face into the chest of the queen and allowed one too many tears to spill over and down her cheek.

They rode like that for a little while, the queen muttering hushed Sindarin to the horses every now and then to keep them together so the embrace could continue. After a time, and the road had now darkened, Húrin sat back up straight in her own saddle and wiped her eyes.

" _Hantanyel órenyallo_." Húrin whispered to the Queen. It had been long years since she had been embraced by an _elleth_ , or even allowed herself to be.

Suddenly Húrin's demeanor changed, and she hissed "Stop!" She then lowered her head and scanned to her right and her left, like she was listening for something. "I believe there is something in the woods."

Swiftly, she stood on top of her horse and vaulted into the trees. The party looked on in confusion, as Húrin normally gave more clear notice before dashing into the treetops and she had never ordered them to stop. The riding elves halted, scanning the dark forest with their keen eyesight. Some of the guard dropped back so that all sides of Methedras, Rian, and Húrin's abandoned horse were covered. All either had an arrow loosely notched on the string or hand tightly gripping the pommel of their swords.

Impossibly long moments passed before Húrin returned, still balancing on a branch. Her voice was a fierce and urgent whisper. "There is a party of orcs and a small group of goblins heading our direction for the the east. I do not believe that they know we are here or are marching in look of assault. They are traveling somewhere. We must move directly south now! Perhaps they will not notice we have been here. I will stay aloft to see if I can learn more."

The guards nodded and all elves moved silently and swiftly forward so fluid, that it was like wind moving through the tree trunks.

Húrin stayed aloft, listening for footsteps, listening to the reports of the trees, and with her eyes closed, trying to sense hostile minds using the network of the trees. She could see them just barely lit about 100 meters to directly east, though they were swiftly moving towards them, pinning them against the clearing that opened to Amon Lanc. When she saw through the eyes of the trees, minds were much easier to find and name, though she had never before sensed an orc or goblin mind. She found them to be in utter contrast to Legolas's. If his was like the clear running of water, theirs was a muddy sludge pit filled with unspeakable horrors, no clarity or movement. She could count, there were 26 orcs and a band of 12 goblins close to them. She could not tell if they were traveling together or not. Concentrating hard, she urged the trees around her to ask the trees around the intruders to slow their progress.

All at once, the lights of the minds of the trees around the party of orcs glowed like stars aflame in Húrin's mind. In the distance, she could hear the yells and confusion of some grotesque creatures who had been caught by surprise. She imagined that they had never dreamed of being drowned in dirt by a tree root or encircled by a low hanging branch. A few of the hostile lights faded from the view of her mind, and none moved that stayed lit. She sang a short song of thank you in her mind to the trees, letting it reverberate through the network. The lights of the trees dimmed from their starlike status though the orcs and goblins seemed to still be trapped in their immobile sleeping grasp.

Just as she took a sigh of relief, a yell erupted from her southern side, along with the sound of flying arrows. In a panic, she realized that she had been concentrating so hard on the orc and goblin forces that she had first detected, that she had not been properly scanning the surrounding area. She sprang up from her crouched position and flew through the trees faster than she ever had before. Frantically, she tried to scan through the network of trees where her father and the other elves were, as well as how many enemies were about them.

In her mind, she saw the bright lights of the elves minds 300 meters south of her, the horses had moved them with great speed. She also saw the slow, sluggish lights of some 40 or 50 hostile lights around them. In her haste, she could not afford to break concentration from her haste in asking the trees to help bear her along. It was too many to ask the trees through her mental powers, she would need to beckon them in song in their presence. The plan sounded stupid even to her in her own head. Find the battle, sing a song, try not to get killed while continuing to sing the song.

She had almost reached the heat of the battle, passing over the tops of many orcs who had not glanced up to realize her presence. She began warming a song in her throat, starting softly, saving her breath for the strength of her limbs. When she was over her companions, she immediately began weaving her song in earnest, calling to the life in the trees and begging for their aid. As she sang, she took stock of the elves below her, and saw that one guard had fallen, but it seemed that the advantage of horseback as well as the training in war of the elves had preserved the rest of the company. Relieved, Húrin closed her eyes to concentrate the power of her song on the trees closest to her fighting kin, reminding them of their friendship with the elves, the ravaging of the orcs, and the strength in their sap.

She had just started to feel them start to waken beneath her voice, when a sharp pain tore through her shoulder. Her song died in her throat and instead let loose a gutteral yell of pain. She slowly opened her eyes and glancing over, she saw a crude spear had cleanly pierced through her shoulder, fresh blood spilling freely from the wound,. The pain blinded her, and made time seem to move slowly, her vision swimming. The beginning of her song had done some good, and the trees were sluggishly winding around some orcs' legs, and if an unfortunate orc happened to lean against a tree, it found itself slowly swallowed. But there were many who fought unhindered and the elven company below was greatly outnumbered.

As Húrin sank down, the dark of night becoming black before her eyes, she tried to rally her internal strength and called out as hard as she could with her mind to aid her kin. Lights were slowly dimming around her, whether because they were being snuffed out by the fighting below or because she couldn't concentrate, she couldn't tell. She started panicking, she could feel herself slipping, losing consciousness. In one last ditch effort, she threw out a last forceful beacon for help, to the trees, the animals, anything that could aid them. She flung it out as far as she could with as much raw strength as she could muster. Her body fully collapsed onto the branch, as her mind recoiled from the strain of the effort, surrendering to the darkness.

oo00oo

* * *

Legolas was growing frustrated. He had been working with Cúthalion, the keeper of the archery grounds, for hours now and he had yet to hit anywhere inside of the target.

"Patience, Legolas. I can see from your face that you are growing wary, but I believe your aim is only off today because you have been working so much on your hand-to hand. You are not used to your added strength, and it is affecting your aim. Breathe deeply and try again." Cúthalion instructed, pacing next to his impatient pupil.

Legolas furrowed his brow, breathing deeply, working to calm himself.

 _Every shot is new_ he told himself, _Do not carry mistakes of the last shot to this one._

He notched an arrow and lifted his bow.

 _Legolas!_ A shout of anguish cried in his mind. His eyes widened and body went slack as a child that has been stricken. He knew beyond the shadow of a doubt, it was the voice of Húrin.

Legolas, suddenly saw only blackness before his eyes, though they were still open. Emotions that were not his own rolled over him, overwhelming him and replacing his surroundings. His fingers went numb and his bow and arrow clattered to the ground. In his ears, he could hear the clash of swords and whiz of arrows below him as well as the sickening smell of blood. He dropped to his knees, though it did not break him out of the trance. All he could feel was Húrin's terror and growing despair, he was drowning in it.

Cúthalion during this time, had rushed over to Legolas's side and caught him before he fell completely. He had no idea what had happened, and was white with fear. He rushed with Legolas in his arms into the Halls of the Elven king, thankful that Legolas was still a small child and carrying him didn't hinder his speed. He raced down the hallways of the outer battlements, winding closer to the heart of the halls. Legolas lay limp, eyes open and glassy, Cúthalion's smooth gait keeping him from being jostled.

As Cúthalion turned a sharp corner, Legolas suddenly shot up, gasping for breath, as though he had been submerged underwater. Cúthalion immediately stopped, startled.

"Legolas! Are you well? What ails you?" He asked in gentle tones, veiling his inner panic. Panic added to panic he had learned, does not aid a situation but rather is adding fuel to chaos.

"Húrin." He breathed out, his eyes still unseeing. "I fear that great harm has befallen the company." He shook his head and seemed to return himself to the present, struggling to get out of Cúthalion's arms. "Cúthalion! We must assemble a force to depart immediately. I know that Húrin is in great peril."

He paused for a moment as Cúthalion slowly let him out of his grasp. A realization dawned on Legolas as he swung his head back to Cúthalion, eyes wide. "And _nanneth_! We must go now!"

Cúthalion tried to halt Legolas who was already struggling to run towards the chambers of Thranduil. "My prince! Please cease your struggling for a moment. I do not understand. How do you know this, that the party is in great peril? We have received no word or messengers. Even if you are speaking truly, they are more than 3 days' ride of our swiftest riders. We would not reach them in time."

The fire in Legolas's eyes did not die, he continued to strive against Cúthalion's grip.

"We must try!" He grunted out.

"Alas, young prince, though I do not understand, we will go to see your father. He will decide how to handle this strange piece of news that you bring. A word though Legolas, those who advise with a clear head are often better received than those who could be perceived as hasty."

Legolas halted for a moment, thinking the words of Cúthalion over, before accepting the wisdom. Legolas dropped his arms and ceased his effort to push through. He looked defiantly at the toes of his shoes before raising his eyes again to Cúthalion.

"I am ready. Let us go."

oo00oo

* * *

 **Thanks for reading guys! Let me know if you have any input :D**


	5. Chapter 5: Two Minds

**A/N: Hey guys! Thanks for all of the follows and messages from last chapter. I wanted to remind everyone that at this point, though Hurin and Legolas have the maturity of someone in their mid-30s, they still look like children. I also wrote this chapter with a map of Mirkwood always open for reference in the next tab, and I know from the books general distances, but I couldn't find any specific ones. If you disagree with travel lengths or times, please remember this is a take on the ingenious work of Tolkien and some creative liberties have been taken. Hope you enjoy this chapter!**

 _Sindarin_

 _Ada -_ father

 _Iston -_ I know

 _An ngell nîn goheno nin -_ Please forgive me

 _Mellon -_ friend

 _Tolo ar nin -_ Come with me

 _Gi suilon -_ Hello (familiar)

 _Le suilon -_ Hello (formal)

 _Ú-iston -_ I do not know

 _Gwestol? -_ Promise?

* * *

 _I onward go, I stop,  
_ _With hinged knees and steady hand to dress wounds,  
_ _I am firm with each, the pangs are sharp yet unavoidable,  
_ _One turns to me his appealing eyes—poor boy! I never knew you,  
_ _Yet I think I could not refuse this moment to die for you, if that would save you._

 _-Walt Whitman (The Wound Dresser)_

00

oo

00

 _1049 of the Third Age_

The meeting with King Thranduil had been swift and brief. Not a moment had gone to waste and quicker than was thought possible, 3 dozen guards, including Cúthalion as well as 3 of their best healers had called for their horses, and were ready to leave. It had been agreed that Legolas would accompany them as Thranduil understood that he may be useful due to his mysterious link with Húrin. The king had not known of its existence, but he felt sure that there must be some way of communicating between the two if Legolas was so severely sure of his report.

The horses rode out swiftly, flying over the ground at the request of the elven riders. Legolas's steed showed particular haste, as the young elf continued to mutter things into the horse's ear, no doubt urging and pleading with the horse to run harder. They were able to cut time by forgoing the usual, well traveled roads that meandered to all of the elven villages that bordered the Halls of the Elven King, in favor of cutting straight through the forest to Amon Lanc. Legolas felt sure that they were near the old capital somewhere. At the pace of a gallop, combined with the clear cut path, the King and his guards were fairly certain that they could arrive at Amon Lanc in a day's time. Deep in their hearts and minds though, it remained that a day was still too long a time to save the party if they were truly in peril.

The minutes bled into hours, and every moment that ticked by made Legolas's dread grow and blood flow a little more heated. The passing seconds seemed to verify the dread that he had tried to hold back with hope. He no longer felt Húrin in his mind, and that made him all the more panicked. It had been as though she had taken over his mind for a moment and then vanished. He barely noticed that they had already crossed over the Mountains of Mirkwood and were nearing old forest road. Had he been keeping track of the time, he would have known that they had been riding hard for 8 hours, making it 9 hours since he had received the vision from Húrin.

Legolas was so concentrated on urging the horse on and constantly scanning for the flame of Húrin's mind, that it took him awhile to realize that his father had been calling out for him to stop. Everything in his mind and body told him that he needed to go faster, to hurry on without stopping. But, he gritted his teeth and brought his horse to a halt.

King Thranduil's horse trotted up to his. "Listen," he whispered, "I hear the gallop of hooves, directly south of us."

The forest stilled as Legolas concentrated, and indeed, he could hear the galloping of hooves. He threw his mind in that direction, but still could not feel any presence.

Thranduil gave him a questioning look, as though he was asking whether Legolas knew who rode.

Legolas shook his head, whispering, "I do not believe them to be the ones we seek."

The king nodded and then made hand motions to the riders. They immediately melted into the woods, some taking up positions in the trees, arrows to the ready, whispering instructions to their horses before dismounting, others drawing swords and positioning themselves in line with the trees. Legolas realized that they had made a gauntlet for whoever this rider was. He quickly urged his horse out of the line of sight of the rider and also took position in the treetops with his bow.

The galloping neared and every elf stood tense, waiting for the smallest movement to unleash a volley of arrows and armed riders. Soon the horse galloped into view and a cry instantly rose and just as quickly died in Legolas's throat as he laid eyes on the riders.

Below was Edegil, Húrin's horse and strapped onto him was his mother, pale and slumped against the neck of the horse, blood clumped in her hair and along her dress. In her lap, lay the limp body of Húrin, also bloodied and pale. The horse, visibly exhausted, stumbled and slowed, sensing the presence of the elves.

Legolas's limbs couldn't move fast enough. He shot down from the trees, crying to the elven soldiers to hold off on their attack, needing to be near them both. Swifter than Legolas were the healers and Thranduil. In all of Legolas's life, he would never forget the expression on his father's face as he surveyed his wife. The brightness in his eyes seemed to dull, and there was fear, love, and fury mixed in a way on his face that would break anyone's heart to look at him. There were quick and few words exchanged with the healers as they examined the queen and Húrin. Thranduil grew stern and allowed the healers to dismount Rian, laying her down on a pallet of leaves they had brought.

Legolas couldn't contain himself anymore. "What is wrong with _nanneth_? Is Húrin okay? What should I do?" he asked in rapid succession to nobody in particular as they were all busy about the queen and Húrin. He continued to frantically look back and forth, trying to help or get a straight answer, though he soon realized that he was a bother and making the situation worse, rather than helping. Standing a few feet back from the pallets, he dropped to his knees and looked on helplessly.

He couldn't touch their bodies as all the healers were hovering around them, stripping away clothes in necessary areas, cleaning wounds and ordering guards to grind leaves and boil water. However, he could see just how much damage there was. His mother's hair, usually a cascade of liquid sunlight, was matted, and chunks of it seemed to be missing as though a stray sword had caught some pieces. Legolas counted 14 slashes all over her body, some deep and oozing poisoned looking blood, and others shallower. From what he had read about warfare, it was clear that though his mother had not ever trained much for battle, she had been swift and clashed swords with many fighters. These were the wounds of someone dancing among many blades, and anger burned in his chest thinking of his mother, so kind, gentle, with healing hands, being cornered by aggressive foes. Húrin, in comparison looked much better than his mother, though her entire left side was drenched with blood. There was part of a spear shaft protruding through the back part of her shoulder, though there seemed to be little blood coming from the wound despite its size. She also had more color in her cheeks than his mother, not that it was much.

Legolas felt like a shell, watching through someone else's eyes. On the other side of the pallets, he realized that his father was doing the same. However, his expression was now carefully blank. He vaguely caught snippets of conversation as healers sang quietly over wounds and talked amongst themselves.

Some of the guards were going forward to see if they could find the rest of the party, the guards as well as Methedras, Húrin's father. It seemed that in their panic, both Legolas and Thranduil had forgotten that there were others to look for and defend. Some soldiers had galloped in haste back to the palace, probably to bring more healers and supplies.

Cúthalion came and sat silently next to Legolas, watching the work of the healers with sad eyes. He put his hand on the prince's shoulder in quiet solidarity and looked over at him. Legolas's gaze was fixed on the two broken bodies in front of him, though he did not shrink away from the gesture.

"You did all that you could, Legolas. It is only by your warning that they might be saved at all. You have my thanks." Cúthalion said earnestly.

Legolas said nothing in reply, continuing to stare. Minutes turned into hours, and soon night fell, and blankets were placed over Thranduil and Legolas who still stayed immobile by the pallets. Finally, the healers seemed as though they were conferring together, and then one broke off to approach King Thranduil. She ushered him aside, speaking in hushed tones.

Legolas, leapt to his feet and rushed over. As soon as he approached, the healer ceased speaking. Looking between the two grave faces, Legolas turned to Thranduil, " _Ada_ , how are they?"

Thranduil studied Legolas for a moment, deciding something, and then nodded to the healer to continue. The healer looked apprehensive but continued anyways.

"King Thranduil, Prince Legolas," he said nervously, turning to address them both, "I am afraid that I bear grave news. The queen has lost great amounts of blood and were that all, we may be able to save her. Be that as it may, the tips of the blades which cut her were poisoned, and she rests now in a coma on the brink of death. We have not the skill or the means to stop the poison. It has already flowed rampant in her veins for half a day, the roots are deep and the damage is great."

Legolas felt himself pale and for the second time that day feel completely numb, as though the words were suddenly coming from far away. He looked at his father for strength, only to see such open agony on Thranduil's face, that he had to avert his eyes. The healer did likewise, stating his next words to the open air between Legolas and the king, not able to look either in the face.

"In honor of the queen, I think it prudent that you, my Lord King, and Prince Legolas know that it seems that she used many of her healing skills on young Húrin. Húrin most certainly would have died from her wounds had the queen not spun some of her flesh closed. Also all of the healing herbs in her pouch are gone, but it seems that she did not use any on herself. Because of this, Húrin will live, though she will not be stable enough to move for some time."

Legolas looked over at the two _elleths_ he held most dear. Both hope and despair welled within him, though the thought of living an eternity without his mother quickly swallowed up the hope. He did not get to see his father's face as he strode to Rian's side, lifted her head and lay it on his lap. Sitting like this, he stroked her face, her uneven hair, and silent tears dropped like a steady rain as he peered at her face, unmoving and gentle. Legolas felt lost in his own body, unsure of what to do, what to think, or even what to feel.

He turned back to the healer desperately, "Is there nothing that can be done? No herb? No cure? No song can be sung to bind her and make her whole? I cannot believe that she is meant to go already to the Halls of Mandos. Please," Legolas turned to look at his grieving father, "please...help us." He pleaded turning back to the healer.

There was an unbearable sadness and pain in the healer's eyes as he placed a hand on Legolas's shoulder. "I would do all for you and for the King my lord. But I cannot do what is impossible." He turned away, and left the prince standing alone.

Legolas stood for a moment, in denial, unable to move. He then walked slowly over to the leaf pallets. He did not wish to disturb his father, or witness his deep despair. Even though the queen was his mother, he felt that his father had a greater right to grief and these last moments belonged to him. He instead got on his knees next to Húrin, and took her hand like he had so many times before.

The healers were watching from afar, giving the two of them space, and all of that could be done for the moment had already been done. Neither the party that had been sent to the Halls of the Elven King or to hunt for survivors had returned, though both of these groups of riders were far from Legolas's mind.

Now having physical contact with Húrin, he projected his thoughts with a gentle insistence in her direction, though he felt nothing in return. There was no presence waiting outside his mind as there normally was when he and Húrin were sitting, hands touching. He worried about this and even slightly doubted the words of the healer, for even when Húrin was sleeping he could feel her mind. The only thing giving him confidence was the shallow rise and fall of her chest as she took steady but ragged breaths.

Countless minutes, both eternally long and seemingly so short passed as the elven King and Prince kept soundless watch over Rian and Húrin. After an indeterminable amount of time to Legolas, he heard an audible weeping from his father that started as a hush and rose steadily in the night sky. His cries pierced the night, clear as crystal, ringing out to the stars, the pain so clear that all who heard were affected. The trees bent their backs, creatures shivered in their homes, and the elves who surrounded the camp all wept openly, the sorrow ringing deeply in all of them, emanating from Thranduil.

The tears streamed down Legolas's face, knowing his mother was certainly dead. To his surprise, the tears that rose were hot and angry, not the cold that sadness brings. A fury welled in his chest at the ones who had killed his mother and nearly murdered his best friend. He rose from Húrin's side and called out for his horse. Thranduil was too entrenched in his own sorrow to know or care. Legolas, eyes still wet, quickly mounted his horse and urged her to take him south.

He rode furiously, flying through the forest. He did not know who killed his mother, but he full well knew that he needed someone to pay and he fully intended on extracting the full price from them. His thoughts spiraled and darkened, hardening his heart. He could still hear the deep anguish that was laced in his father's sobs, his father who was always so strong, wise, and unmoving. Death was unnatural for elves, not something they were supposed to have to face. The perversion of how his life and his father's had been irrevocably altered brought a new flood of hot tears to his eyes that streamed away in the wind. The dark of the night was passing into the dawn of the next day, but he was not tired, and his horse was feeding off of the malice that emanated like a dark fog over Legolas, driving her harder.

Something pricked Legolas's nose and he slowed the horse to a trot, and then a stop. He listened intently and sniffed the air again, there was a stench blowing from the southwest, from the direction of Amon Lanc.

 _Orcs._ Legolas thought, praising what he thought to be his good fortune. _There will be none left._

He urged his horse on, ready to burst into the clearing, already notching an arrow onto his bow string.

Suddenly, a horse burst out in his path so quickly that his horse had to rear up in order to keep from colliding.

"If you are wise, you will remove your horse from my path." Legolas hissed, aiming his already drawn bow. He reacted swiftly, not bothering to examine the stranger in front of him.

The stranger pulled back his grey cloak to reveal the grave face of Mithrandil. His eyes were deeply sorrowful as he looked at Legolas, his next words like the calm coming over a raging sea. "Wisdom is not choosing the path of least danger, or least sorrow. When one chooses to disregard wisdom, that is when it is most needed. Legolas, you would do well to take pause now. These times are dark as the shadow grows." Mithrandil shook his head sorrowfully. "I regret that you have had a greater taste of it than any so young should ever have to bear. But to follow your heart in this matter would bring the murkiness of blood spilt in rage to the growing darkness. It would only deepen the shadow, claiming you as well in its fold. I cannot allow you to pass. _Avon_."

Legolas looked at him with ferocity, wanting to challenge, but knowing deep down that a contest of strength between himself and Mithrandil had only one inevitable end.

"Your mother has not just been slain Mithrandil, your father's heart not been torn." Legolas stated flatly, straightening with confidence. "I know that if you would not allow me passage, I would be foolish to seek it from you. Know this however, my heart still desires justice and no man, elf, wizard, or even Sauron himself will deny me that in the end. Though wise you may be, you cannot tell me that my desire to see the guilty pay is wrong."

He abruptly turned his horse and began trotting back to his father and Húrin. Mithrandil looked after him for a moment, in his gaze he held a deep heartache for the twisting of good that was happening before his eyes. He bowed his head in sorrow for the death of the queen and the agony that was undoubtedly in the heart of Thranduil.

After a moment, Mithrandil stirred his horse to follow after Legolas. His stern countenance hid a relief and a guilt inside. Upon his arrival in Lothlorien, Galadriel had met him at the border and urged him to continue riding to Mirkwood. She would not explain the fear and grief in her face, but he knew he would be a fool to disregard the counsel of one so learned. He was now glad he had both heeded her advice and gone with such speed. He knew that he would be greatly needed in Greenwood. As his horse followed Legolas, he glanced back at the short breadth of trees that separated him from the clearing of Amon Lanc. He had a strong feeling that an evil was brewing there, deeper than the gathering of some orcs and goblins. Yes, he was definitely in the right place.

oo00oo

* * *

Húrin awoke to a pounding pain throughout her body. She blinked her eyes a few times at the brightness. Groggily, she tried to sit up, attempting to figure out exactly where she was. The pain was too great even as she flexed her muscles, and so she merely tried to turn her head. She had not slept with her eyes closed in quite some time and waking was proving difficult. The memories of her slumber were still fresh in her mind and more than anything she wished that she could wash her mind of the past few days, if indeed not much time had passed since she had passed out.

As she gained more awareness of where she was, she felt the soft brush of someone's hand on hers. She glanced over slowly, being careful not to move very much. A horrid feeling of guilt and shame settled on her face as she laid eyes on Legolas. He was looking down at her with a joy so strongly mixed with grief that he seemed to have gained hundreds of years of sorrows in the short days they had been parted. What worried her even more was she could tell that something else lay veiled even under the joy and sadness, threatening to burst through. She could guess at what it was, but it lurked menacingly behind his calm mask, volatile and dangerous.

Tears formed in her eyes and she turned her face away, ashamed and unable to face him.

Legolas, confused, reached out gently with his mind. He had been relieved when he had gotten back to the makeshift camp that he had been able to sense Húrin's flame almost immediately. That had been almost a day ago. The party had carried the queen's body back to the Halls of the Elven King and declared Húrin stable enough for travel back the Healing Rooms. Legolas had not seen his father since they had returned, no one had. Legolas could only guess at what he was doing.

His mother's memorial feast had passed, though many songs were still being sung among the Eldar of sorrow, the forests rang with it. Her body had been placed into the ground on the outskirts of the palace with a great gathering of white stones. Many elves had been healed by her, and their kin all laid a carved marble tribute on the mound. Legolas had stood when he needed to in all ceremonies, in royal attire, hair braided. He remembered how his mother had always fussed to make sure his hair was kempt and braided, he promised himself that he would never go without them again.

Now however, he could not bear being near his mother's form, bereft of life, and had taken up residence next to Húrin's bedside, waiting for her to awaken.

As he reached her mind, projecting his concern and confusion, strangely, he found himself unable to communicate. It even seemed as though her mind was walled off, actively trying to repel him. He could sense its presence but it he was now unable to convey or receive any thoughts to her. Even more confused, he gripped her hand tighter.

"Húrin?" he asked cautiously, "Are you well? Why are you making your mind foreign to me? Are you still in pain?"

Húrin lay silently, eyes tightly shut, her cheeks still wet with tears, very much not wanting to answer any of these questions.

"I am well Legolas." She managed to murmur. "You need not concern yourself with me." She continued in a small, softer voice.

Legolas reeled a bit, she could not mean this.

"I do not understand Húrin. How is it that you can say you are not of my concern? Are you not my friend? Have we not spent the past 20 years in companionship? I…" Legolas faltered, trying to contain himself and all of his roiling emotions, "I would like to have a friend now more than ever, and I believe you need me too."

Legolas paused, steeling himself and yet trying to be as gentle as possible with his next words, loosening his grip on her hand, "We found you and my mother first, but we were too late for your father." He paused again, waiting for this to sink in. "From what the scouts said, he was surrounded by more than 20 orcs, and he must have fought bravely Húrin so you and my mother might yet live."

The words were meant to be gentle, but each one dropped like a stone from Legolas's mouth. He now could feel it was as difficult to speak as it was for Húrin to hear the solemn tidings he had to bear. Resolving to keep his anger at bay, he finished softly for her sake, "All were lost save you Húrin. My mother has also faded and flown to the Halls of Mandos."

Húrin did not react. She lay absolutely still, her eyes now looking aimlessly out one of the windows into the woods. There was no shock, no dismay, or suprise at his words.

After many moments, he heard her voice, even smaller than before, " _Iston_."

"What?" He breathed, aghast, mouth hanging. Her hand dropped from his. "How? Were you awake before? What do you mean Húrin?"

She curled into a ball and began to seize, small groans of agony mixed with deep sobbing. Legolas, more confused and concerned than ever, stood over her, trying to calm her down, placing his hand firmly on her shoulder. Húrin tried to speak through the sobs, though all her words were swallowed up in gasps and shudders. She struggled to get the words out, her attempts growing louder, until amongst the whimpering, she nearly yelled out, "I knew because I felt them die Legolas!"

That seemed to help her calm down, she lay, eyes closed, and whispered again, "I felt them die..." tears still flowing freely.

Legolas was again, astonished, and face going slack, dropped back into his chair. No words came from his mouth though they flooded his mind, questions that he knew would not help and may go unanswered. He kept silent, waiting very impatiently for her to explain in her own time.

Still facing away from him she took some deep breaths before she continued, "We were traveling three days as you well know when I sensed a band of orcs to our northeast, heading towards Amon Lanc. I immediately took to the trees to head them off using our forest allies and sent the rest of the party to the south." She then turned to look at him over her shoulder, "It is truly my fault Legolas, I let my guard down and did not properly scan the area as I was so concentrated on the orcs to the north. I did not see the larger group of orcs I sent them to."

Húrin seemed on the brink of breaking into hysterical sobs again and turned away from Legolas, taking deep slow breaths. It seemed an eternity to Legolas before she continued, "I quickly realized my mistake and flew through the branches as quickly as I could to stir the trees to battle. I was able to start my call, though was quickly pierced by a spear through my shoulder. There were so many." She broke off again, huddling herself closer together, "I could feel in that moment that I was losing consciousness and would be of no further use, so I did something I have only ever done once before, I opened my mind completely in order to call for aid to any living thing that would listen. It was a huge mistake. I could not close my mind as the voices flooded in and though I lost consciousness I was one with every living ally we had below. I felt every blow to my father, your mother, and our kin. I felt the agony of every mind, ripped from its body and forced to flee, long before any wanted to, and even worse…" she trailed off, squeezing her eyes shut, "your mother felt me within her mind."

Húrin knew in her heart that Legolas deserved to know the depth of her treachery as well as the goodness of his mother. Gathering her courage and strength, she unballed herself and turned to look at his face, bracing herself for what she might find. What she found that it was worse than she had expected, his face was blank, no love, no joy, no pain. Nothing could have cut her more deeply, but she continued, saying the next words to his face.

"Your mother sensed me, and ceasing her fight for survival, she battled her way through to catch me as I fell from the trees. She caught me, called for Erdegil and fled. She could not have defended herself with me in her arms, she shielded me. As we rode, I was in her mind and I pleaded with her to tend to her own wounds, but she would not. I watched helplessly through her eyes, feeling the burning of the poison embedding itself in her body, as she sung over my wound, used all her herbs that she carries on her hip, and bandaged me with bloody hands. I felt every sacrifice and conscious choice she made to heal me and not herself. And I felt…" Húrin's voice became soft and her confidence waned as she broke eye contact with Legolas, saying the last words to his breast, "as she thought of you and cried that you should grow without her. I felt as she was called to the Hall of Mandos. She fought to the last second to stay here, with you and your father, but her strength was not enough. _An ngell nîn goheno nin._ "

With that, Húrin fell silent and one last tear escaped her eyes.

Legolas sat silent for a time. Then he stood, face hardened and betraying no emotion though she could feel the fury emanating from him. "Húrin, could you find the orcs using Telperi?"

Anxiously, Húrin raised her eyes to look intently at Legolas's face. She saw the veiled rage more plainly, she now could see that it had been carefully penned behind his blank expression, but at some point when she had been speaking, the dam had broken. Guardedly, she answered, "I do not know friend Legolas. Why do you ask this?"

"I mean to end them." he answered without shame or hesitation.

Taken aback, but not altogether stunned, Húrin looked deeply into his face lacing her words with meaning, "You would take their lives? Would you inflict on them the pain I just felt? I now know truly what it means, how it feels to die Legolas. I do not wish it on another. If you would ride to slaughter, I cannot ride with you _mellon_."

Legolas's hardened face turned into an angry snarl, "You have felt the pain of my mother and you do not feel my cause is just?! How can you justify her killers having felt her death? You have more cause than I! If you do not ride with me, you do not love her or me. And what of your father? Did you care nothing for him?"

Húrin gasped, "You do not mean that," though her eyes betrayed her fear, "I feel deeply for all of you." she reached for his hand, and though he did not shirk away, he also did not conform as he normally did.

"I would loathe to see my _mellon_ inflicting the same pain that I have felt."

Legolas, stepped away from her, face still caught in a snarl, "Those are the words of a coward. I will not let fear drive me. You and I should have started training to protect our peoples long ago. The fault belongs to you and to me Húrin, do you not see? We must make right what has gone wrong, though no one can restore our father and mother to us."

He stepped towards her again, and held his face level with hers. "Ride with me Húrin. We can undo the harm that we have wrought on our people."

Húrin faltered. "I do not deny the guilt I feel is deep, and I would have it be extinguished quickly and by whatever means possible," she answered slowly, "but I mean to do your mother honor by becoming a healer, as she was. I believe that she would not want you to do this Legolas. These deeds will weigh down your soul and never truly bring you peace."

His face turned cold again and his words were as sharp steel, "Then what would you have me do Húrin? Sit idly by, healing ails and watching our kingdom come to ruin as our people are slaughtered? You speak as though pain has made you wise, I believe it has only made you fearful," he paused, hoping to spur her to his side, "and weak. There are some creatures the world is better off without, and I mean to rid our lands of them. That is my duty, it is yours too though you choose not so see it. _Tolo ar nin._ "

Húrin did not answer, for she truly did not know what the right thing was anymore. What had seemed to clear to her in the council so long ago had now turned muddy and unsure. A misstep was more costly than she had imagined and now doubt tangled with fear consumed her. She shrank under Legolas's cold stare and averted his gaze.

Scoffing, he began to stride out of the room, feeling only rage. For when an elf loves, he loves fully and when broken, the sorrow can be equally life changing. At the edge of the doorway, he turned back for a moment to look at Húrin, not doubting his own resolve but still hoping that she may bend in hers. She still would not look at him. Disappointment and resignation mounting in him, he left the Healing Rooms to look for Cúthalion. He would no doubt be ready and willing to teach him the art of the warrior.

When he was gone, Húrin allowed all of the pain to flood back into her mind, she had tried to keep it at bay as she had spoken with Legolas. She had not wanted him to be overly concerned. Now she realized he had had other agendas on his mind and had not paid much mind to the pain she currently felt. As she lay, wallowing in her sorrows, bordering on self-pity, she heard the soft pad of the footsteps of a grown elf. She turned to look and was surprised to see Mithrandil approach.

" _Gi suilon_ Húrin." He said warmly. The air about him was kind. Kinder than she had ever felt from him before. It was almost an intoxicating comfort that made her fears and pains fade in his presence, like a candle that drives banishes away a darkness.

" _Le_ _suilon_ Mithrandil." she answered quietly.

They then conversed for a time, exchanging mutual questions about health and Húrin reiterated what had taken place in the woods, though she did not explain about her experiences of death but alluded to the heroic acts of Queen Rian. Mithrandil listened with understanding and asked pointed questions at times that made Húrin feel he knew all the words she thought she had hidden from him. After she felt she had nothing left to tell, he continued to sit beside her, pulling out his pipe and looking into the distance. Growing in companionable silence he turned back toward her.

His expression continued to carry warmth, but also grew to concern, "I know of Legolas's desire to now turn to war. I have wondered, is that the leaning of your mind as well?"

" _Ú-iston_." she admitted, "I know the inclinings of my heart are not to continue to take life, but to restore it. Be that as it may, I do not know whether these desires are borne from fear or from noble resolutions. I also know that my friendship with the trees suit the needs of the hunter much better than the healer. My mind is unsettled, unsure of duty, desire, and fear."

Mithrandil looked at her intently, and she saw for a moment the power and clarity they held as they peered deeply into her mind. He then took to smoking his pipe again as though he had finished examining her.

"I see that you are in great conflict, young Húrin." he stopped to puff out smoke, shaped as a beautiful white horse that galloped out the window, "Lord Elrond is coming to comfort and console King Thranduil as well as pay tribute to Queen Rian." Mithrandil closed his eyes for a moment as though staving off sadness, "She was a great lady, gentle as she was beautiful and resolute in her dealings. The elves of Greenwood have indeed suffered a great loss. You would do well to learn from her. Gentleness and kindness are not the same as timidity or weakness Húrin."

He refocused on Húrin, "When Lord Elrond arrives, if you truly desire to learn healing, you should request to join his company. He is one of the greatest healers on Middle Earth, and there is much you could learn in Rivendell."

"I would be honored to receive instruction from one so learned. I will think on this." Húrin replied.

Mithrandil nodded as he continued to smoke, blowing out beautiful creations of sight and smell. Húrin studied his face, and decided that there was much he was not saying which lead her to wonder if this was not indeed the path he had hoped for. Determining to set it aside for the present, she settled for enjoying the presence of Mithrandil's light as well as his fantastical smoke creations. The only thought that kept her from rest was the small flame, flickering out on the edge of her mind, always within reach but no longer welcome to her.

oo00oo

* * *

Legolas arrived to see many elves already at the archery range. Cúthalion was instructing another elven child who it looked like was just beginning, the arrows lay in disarray around him, everywhere but the target.

Legolas walked straight up to Cúthalion, and pulled him aside.

"Cúthalion, I would like to begin training in earnest, I mean to ride in a week's time from today. I pledge my time to be yours, make me as one of the guard."

Cúthalion's eyebrows raised, though he spoke the next words gently, "My lord, it is not possible for you to be ready to slay orcs in a week's time though you had the strength of a troll and the endurance of the great wind eagles. I will not train those who only wish for their own death."

Legolas's face remained blank, "You will not train me then?"

"Legolas, you misunderstand me. I would prepare you to be the greatest warrior of all races were that your desire. You have given me a week's time and an ambition greater than any I could allow you to undertake. Were you willing to wait until you are ready, I would gladly give you my skill."

Legolas thought for a moment, unmoving, assessing Cúthalion's options. He knew he did not have the skill to achieve all the damage to the orcs as he hungered for. Yet, to allow so much time to pass before he was able to ride seemed unbearable. Every breath those orcs were taking was a mercy they did not deserve in Legolas's mind.

"I will do as you have asked Cúthalion, I greatly desire your wisdom and skill." he finally resolved.

" _Gwestol?_ " asked the archer, not entirely convinced.

Legolas placed his right arm in a diagonal over his chest, his fist on his heart. "With the stars as my testimony."

Cúthalion then clapped his hand on Legolas's shoulder. "Then let us begin."

oo00oo

* * *

 **There you go! I know it's a pretty heavy/serious chapter and there are a lot of emotions being thrown around for it being mainly elves in this story. I want to again point out that Legolas and Hurin are very young. I think that the solemnity and wisdom that are often associated with elves comes from long life and many experiences. This is their time to be a little unsure, a little rash just like we think toddlers can be petulant in comparison with an adult. Please let me know what you think! Also, I'm looking for a beta if anyone is interested, I don't have time to proofread the way I really would like to and it would be great to have someone to bounce ideas off of. Message me if you are interested!**


	6. Chapter 6: A Trade

**A/N Hey guys! I know it's a bit of a late update. This is because life has still been quite busy, somehow my chapters keep getting longer haha, and also because I had a major block on the story line. I think the more research I do, the more ideas I have, and I become really conflicted about where to take the story.**

 **ALSO, the major change is that I will now being putting the Sindarin in parentheses right after it's spoken. This is due to the fact that I also have one word of Westron in there, I have made a few words up as they do not exist in Tolkien's legendarium, and also because I have italics for thoughts as well and I don't want it to be too confusing. Anyways, happy reading!**

* * *

 _It all started with "I disagree"_  
 _And it all fell down_  
 _Only divided by what we believe_  
 _And the lines on the ground_

 _I wanted grace_  
 _You wanted justice_  
 _We both needed love_  
 _But we couldn't trust it_

 _We scream and we shout_  
 _'Til we lose our voices_  
 _Saying you take what's yours and I'll keep what is mine_  
 _Pointing our fingers at each other's choices_  
 _'Til friends become foes at the end of the line_

 _-Tim be Told (Friends and Foes)_

00

oo

00

 _1049 of the Third Age_

The clash of swords filled the air as blades danced in the air, flashing dangerously in the sunlight. The two combatants drew apart for a moment, circling and analyzing.

"Come faster at me Elrohir! Do not hold back." commanded Legolas.

Elrohir obliged, launching himself at Legolas. The blades clashed, as the elven knives met again and again. The wielders continued to move in a circle as they fought, parrying, testing defenses, and whirling to knock the other off balance. Legolas found that the _celebtad_ lent themselves well to the lightness of foot he had learnt from Húrin. He had observed that though he had ample strength for his size and age, it was his agility that set him apart from others when he sparred. Much of this, he quickly realized was due to his time spent racing on thin branches through the trees. However, Elrohir brought the styles and techniques of the sword wielders in Imladris. Legolas had had quite a time learning to properly defend and attack, even with the help of Cúthalion.

Lord Elrond had arrived a fortnight ago bringing with him his twin sons Elrohir and Elladan. The twins held themselves in such a way that Legolas knew, they were formidable in battle and though he had never met them, they moved easily among the people and places of Greenwood. They made him uneasy, though he had had no interest in them until they had showed up on the training fields, brandishing deadly weapons and a desire to spar. Thrilled at the chance to spar against a different style and test his progress, Legolas had obliged their request.

Elrohir was quickly gaining ground, making better use of the greater length of his sword as well as his height and weight. Legolas was just managing to keep on his feet, flitting amongst the blade as it moved with greater range and strength than he and his _celebtad [two silver knives]_. He grit his teeth in frustration and in a moment of impatience, darted forward, sweeping aside Elrohir's sword using both of his _celebtad_. Elrohir grinned, knowing that Legolas had made a careless mistake in launching all his weight forward.. Redirecting the energy Legolas had given to his pushed aside blade, in one continuous sweep he brought the flat of his sword against Legolas's already off balance feet. Legolas's eyes went wide for a moment before he found himself fallen on his side with the edge of Elrohir's sword an inch from his neck.

Legolas closed his eyes in frustration. "I yield." He said through gritted teeth.

Elrohir withdrew his sword, looking slightly smug, but somehow also apologetic. He extended his arm to help the young prince up.

Legolas looked with disdain on the offer, and stood quickly without taking it.

"How is it that you can feel satisfaction upon defeating a child?" he spat bitterly.

Elrohir's brow knit together, though he bit back any retort of malicious intent. "You misunderstand, _gwinig [child/baby]_. I do not find honor or praise in causing you defeat. I have high regard for your level of skill after so short a time of training and feel satisfaction that I can yet hold my own against such passion and ability."

Elladan rolled his eyes, which thankfully Legolas failed to see. He had much less patience for Legolas's eagerness and quick temper. In the past two weeks, he and his brother had sparred countless times against Legolas and Elladan found him to be the most disdainful of combatants. He was hasty, irritable, and disrespectful. He cared for naught but the swordplay itself and was relentless in asking to spar again and again though the outcome remained: him bitterly yielding and spewing fiery words at the twins.

Legolas, raised his _celebtad_ in a fighting stance. "Again." he commanded.

Wearily, Elrohir also raised his blade and took a stance. Elladan shot his brother a look of disgust and began to walk away as he heard the sounds of steel upon steel begin in earnest behind him.

As he walked through the city, he trained his eyes on the overhanging canopy, hoping to catch a slight rustle or glimmer of silver. When he had not been at the sparring grounds, he had been greatly intrigued by the other young elf that resided there. He would often see her flitting through the trees, a shimmer in the corner of his eye that disappeared when he turned his attention to it. She very much reminded him of a bird, cautious, flighty, and always watching. He had not yet spoken to her, though the palace was full of whispers about her, from her name, to her mysterious connection to the queen and her death. He knew his father to even have an interest in her. Murmurs, and rumors filled the Elvenking's Halls, and not just about the strange elleth in the trees.

In his time in Eryn Galen, his father, Elrond had somehow coaxed King Thranduil out of his chambers. None but Lord Elrond and Mithrandil had dared to speak with the king, not even Legolas. A dark cloud surrounded the prince and the king that drove all but the bravest from their sight. Legolas did naught but train fiercely, physically cutting down any who would speak with him while the king's piercing stare did much the same.

Though he had not seen anyone approach Legolas, Elladan had noticed that the elleth who nested in the trees seemed to follow him as a shadow treads in the dark. He also had noticed that Legolas would often glance up at the branches with no aim, his face unreadable as he scanned the canopy. Elladan shook his head, focusing his mind on the task at hand. Elrond had brought him and a handful of the Imladris guard to bolster patrols and reconnaissance in Eryn Galen in light of recent events. It was not yet time for his shift, but he wearied of watching the pointless sparring of his brother and Greenwood's prince.

"Nardol _tolo [come]_." Elladan called out as he reached the stables.

A chestnut horse, standing at 16 hands strode forward out of one of the stalls, nickering gently as it placed its muzzle against Elladan's welcoming hand. She whinnied contentedly as Elladan produced an apple out of his pack.

" _Nidhid mened_ Nardol [ _I have a mind to go Nardol]_." he whispered to her softly. She inclined her head, acquiescing to his command, and he swung himself onto her back. He gave her a light squeeze with his knees and she bolted forward, understanding his every movement, for horses bred by the elves are as great of mind as they are strength.

Their gallop was to the south, where it seemed the shadow was growing darkest, and the creatures most unscrupulous. Elladan knew in the back of his mind that he really should not be riding alone, but being a Lord's son, he seldom had freedom and he relished every taste of it he could steal. Also, he reasoned, being around so much tension near the palace merely grew his feelings of being caged. The grief weighed heavily in the air of the elven city and Elladan often found long past sorrows being awakened inside him.

Suddenly, he became aware of a shadow keeping pace with Nardol. Glancing upwards, he saw Húrin, nimbly leaping from branch to branch. In awe, he could not fathom how a running elfling could match the gallop of a high born steed of the elves. Experimentally, he slowed his pace to see what she would do. She slowed to match him. He stopped entirely, appearing to be casually taking in his surroundings, all the while being hyper aware of any movement from above.

The stirring in the branches stilled.

"Come down, _aew [little bird]_." Elladan called, "I know you are there."

The only answering movement was the quivering of the leaves as they paid heed to the slight breeze of summer. In one fluid movement Elladan nocked an arrow and pointed it into the canopy.

"If I am wrong, then I shall instead have myself a supper of wildfowl."

Immediately, Hurin dropped from the trees, landing on the balls of her feet in a crouched position. She held her hands up in a defensive posture.

"I know not who you are, but I assure you I am no wildfowl." Her voice rang out clearly as of tinkling bells.

Elladan kept his bow raised, assessing the elf in front of him. She was still a child and her garb was one of Greenwood. Her hair was the common silver shade of many of the elves of Lorien, and it hung straight to the middle of her back. What stopped him for a moment were her eyes. For they were of a strangely green hue that reminded him of woodlands and deep valleys of emerald yet they were filled with an anxiousness and sorrow. Her brow was heavily laden and a darkness was cast upon her face.

"How am I to know when you flit about the branches, _aew_?"

She cocked her head at the name.

"What need have you to follow me?" Elladan continued, " _Pedo_! [ _Speak!_ ]"

Still with hands raised she spoke sternly, "I would not travel this path. I came as an aid and a scout. I mean you no harm."

Slowly, Elladan lowered his bow, placing the arrow back in its quiver.

"Oh? And for what reason do you think it unwise to ride this path? Or why are you so confident that I need aid?"

Húrin bowed her head slightly murmuring to herself, "I am not sure of much of anything."

She had left the healing rooms after a week's time, much to the healer's disdain. In all honesty she had left long before her wounds were completely healed, but her fear of being visited by King Thranduil had allowed her to disregard the pain. When it came to Legolas, she had not run, though she also could not be called brave in speaking with him. Their conversations were stunted and awkward with Húrin being overly apologetic and Legolas overly angry. The times were few but between the anger and silences, a moment would arise where both would look at the other with understanding, having grown to know the other's mind so well over the years. Then the moment would pass, and compassion would be driven out by guilt or fury. Húrin had not changed in her resolution to never take a life, and Legolas had not wavered from his determination of justice. He had filled every waking moment, of which there were more than normal, honing his skills in archery, swordplay, hand-to-hand, anything that Cúthalion could teach him. Húrin watched his sparring with growing fear, for his ferocity spoke plainly of the malice growing in his heart. Yet still, she could not manage to draw herself away, for there was a tugging in her own heart that she could not ignore.

She spoke plainly to Elladan, "I do not know of how much help I may yet be, but I know with certainty that I do not wish to see more death."

Elladan looked at her with a sorrowful understanding, thinking of her experience with the dead queen, "I shall keep close watch and see that no harm befalls me." He turned back to Nardol, " _Mened [Let's go]._ "

As Nardol started forward, Húrin hurriedly took a step into its path with her arms outstretched in warning. "My lord! I bid you please to not continue in this direction."

Coming to a halt, he now spoke with slight annoyance, "Why ever not?"

She hesitated, answering cautiously, for she did not relish the thought of another knowing her particular abilities, "There are many who would think it unwise to travel alone."

He raised an eyebrow, "And how is it that you fare amongst the treetops alone? Do you believe yourself to be a greater warrior than I? I will not be told by a _hên [child]_ where I may go." He nudged Nardol to go around Húrin.

Desperately, she sidestepped to the swerve of Nardol. "No, my lord, you are far greater in arms and bow than I." she sighed resignedly, "I know many enemies lie in wait not far from here. I implore you not to meet them in open combat."

Amused and also skeptical, Elladan waved his hand dismissively, "Your tender years have not seen much of combat, and though it is often ugly and dangerous, there is also a restoration of order in it. You need not follow," he unsheathed his _celebtad_ , "but I relish in the opportunity to end those who would bring evil to these lands."

Húrin's face betrayed her confliction.

"I will keep watch." she finally stated flatly. Then she leapt up into the branches once more, though she stayed lower and in sight.

Elladan nodded stiffly, still slightly at a loss as to why this _hên_ would think herself valuable to a seasoned warrior like himself. The only thing that kept him from turning her back was watching her agile form fly through the trees. For no elf he had ever known could match the stride of a galloping horse. They traveled in this way for a half a league.

" _Daro_! _[Stop!]_ " Húrin hissed.

Before Elladan could respond, Naldor halted, as though he was listening more intently to her than to him.

" _Dínen pada caen na i foer [Silently move 10 paces to your right]._ " she whispered into the quiet breeze. Her voice seemed to emanate from the forest itself, disturbing nothing and reaching only the ears of its intended. Naldor obliged, quietly walking to the right. He halted before a large felled tree, and on horseback, Elladan could just see over it's mossy trunk. There was a party of 7 or 8 goblins not more than 50 yards away. They were at a standstill, flush against the backs of trees that lined the path. With a start, Elladan realized that it was an ambush.

He turned his head to look for Húrin above him.

"There are 8 goblins on this side of the path. Five more goblins lie in wait on the other side. Two at the front of each end of the path have crossbows while the rest are armed with broadswords." came a voice voice beside him and with a small jump, he realized she was now crouched beside him behind the tree trunk.

Regaining his composure, he took drew back his bow, firing off two quick shots, each finding their mark in the neck of a goblin. He had taken out the crossbowmen he could see first, with the hope of stirring the others out of hiding. When they charged, it would be easy enough to pick the rest of them off before they reached him.

"Raza! [Stranger!]" a goblin yelled as he saw his companions fall. As soon as the goblins stirred, Elladan could smell their stench in the air. They must have lain long in wait for their scent to have been so masked he thought to himself. Rapidly firing, he easily slew the goblins before any of them had been able to cross to them more than 10 yards.

Stowing his bow, he glanced over at Húrin. Her face was completely devoid of color, and her expression was one of horror. He softly placed his hand on her shoulder.

" _Agoreg vae aew [You did well little bird]_." He said gently before moving forward to retrieve his arrows.

Húrin looked on, trying desperately to concentrate on slowing her breath and reigning in her fear. Just the sound of Elladan's arrows had roused memories of the ambush that had caused the queen's death. She tried to focus on the life that she had helped to save today instead of the corpses of goblins and the lifeblood that was still now spilling from their bodies onto the forest floor. She squeezed her eyes shut. It was too hard. All she could see was their glassy eyes, empty shells that would haunt her waking dreams.

Elladan soon returned with all his arrows save one that had gotten stuck in the armor of a goblin and broken when he had tried to remove it. Seeing that Húrin was still in no state to speak much less move, he lifted her onto Nardol and then vaulted on as well. He lifted her arms to wrap them around his waist, testing to make sure she could still grip at least. When he was satisfied that she had enough sense in her not to fall off, he bid Naldor to bring them back to the Halls of the Elvenking. He felt he understood better his father's interest in this strange elfling. Without her, he would most certainly been ambushed. That is not to say that she had saved his life, but she had definitely helped him to avoid injury.

Upon arriving at the Halls of the Elvenking, Elladan dismounted and turned to help down Húrin. She took his hand, but dismounted on her own strength. She moved of her own volition though she still did not speak.

" _No veren_ Naldor _[Enjoy yourself Naldor]_." Elladan said as he affectionately gave a small slap to the horse's hindquarters. Naldor whinnied a small protest and swung his head round to examine Húrin with concern.

Húrin offered the horse a slight smile, " _Ni maer_ Naldor. _Áva sorya_. _[I am well Naldor. Do not worry.]_ " Seemingly satisfied with her answer, Naldor nickered a farewell to them both and began to graze, slowly meandering back towards the stables.

Elladan chuckled, "After a decade of battles and many leagues together, it seems as though you have won Naldor's heart in an hour."

Húrin's eyes widened, "Oh no, my lord! I would never take for myself anything that belongs to you. I believe that Naldor was just expressing concern for any who might have been harmed in the skirmish."

He laughed easily, "Do not be frightened Húrin, I am merely joking. Naldor does have a great affection for many." He turned to face her. "I do not believe I have properly introduced myself, I am Elladan son of Lord Elrond."

Húrin's eyes widened even farther, "I am Húrin daughter of Methedras. Forgive me, I did not know you were the son of Lord Elrond." She inwardly cursed herself for being so forward in the forest, suggesting that she may be of value to so great a warrior as Elladan. For no elf in Greenwood did not know the great deeds of Elladan and Elrohir. Those who had fought with them called them _Gorthol,_ for they worked as one terrible whirlwind of knives and arrows.

The smile did not depart from his face, though before he could speak, Maeglin came before them.

"Lord Elladan, Lady Húrin, the council is again meeting and requests your attendance."

"Thank you Maeglin, tell the council that we will be there shortly." Elladan said with a nod of his head.

Maeglin gave a small nod in return and strode away.

Elladan turned to Húrin. "I suppose we should change and hasten to the meeting chamber. You know your way?"

Húrin nodded numbly. This would be her first time appearing before King Thranduil since Queen Rian had died.

"Then I shall see you presently."

She watched him stride away before running into the palace, she could not shake the memory of how the last council had gone. And this time, she could not count on Legolas's hand to hold.

oo00oo

* * *

Legolas fidgeted in his seat, waiting for the council to begin. On his left sat his father, Lord Elrond, Celebrian, Elrohir, Mithrandir, and an elf whom he did not know. He had one of the fairest faces that Legolas had yet seen, with golden hair that seemed to give off a soft light of its own. His eyes were keen, and though kind, had a look of strength and wisdom that made Legolas feel as though he could see into his very heart. The other elves were talking quietly, though Legolas could still discern the voice of the stranger, musical and yet powerful.

Not long after the others had settled, Elladan walked in followed by Húrin. Elladan quickly took a seat next to Elrohir, while Húrin anxiously scanned the room and then slowly took the only remaining seat next to Legolas. She shot him an apologetic look as though she knew he did not wish to speak with her. Legolas looked away, both disgusted and sympathetic in a way he did not understand.

Elrond then stood, " _Le nathlam hí._ I speak to you at an hour of great darkness, and great sorrow." He turned as he spoke, easily meeting the gazes of all, though Húrin continued to look down at her hands and Legolas glowered from his seat. "We now stand in an age where the darkness grows in a way that not even I had foreseen. Thirty years ago we sat in a council much like this, and there we decided that the time had not yet come for action. I fear that that is no longer an option that we have the luxury of entertaining. I would have you all introduce yourselves so that we may speak plainly with one another about our roles in the coming days."

The elf Legolas did not know stood first, "I am Glorfindel, entrusted by the Valar to return to Middle Earth after falling to the balrog of Cirith Thoronath. Manwë has sent me in past ages to aid Gil-galad and Lord Elrond in the struggle against Sauron. I have come once more with Olórin so that darkness may yet not fall upon Middle Earth." He then took his seat with a nod from Elrond.

Elladan and Elrohir stood as one, though Elrohir was the one to speak, "We are Elrohir and Elladan, sons of Lord Elrond. We have come to lend our blades to the guard of Eryn Galen."

The twins sat with a nod from Elrond as the remaining elves all stood in turn, introducing themselves and their roles. As the line progressed, Húrin felt her hands begin to sweat, not sure of what she should say. She perfectly understood why she had been called to the council, but she was loathe to renounce the taking up of arms in front of the king and Legolas. Judging Legolas's reactions, she did not think the king would take kindly to her decision.

When she snapped back to the present, it was King Thranduil who was now speaking.

"I am Thranduil, son of Oropher. I speak for the elves of Eryn Galen. We have lost much, and we will defend what is ours, but I would not lend my hand to this gathering storm. We must concentrate our efforts on clearing our own lands." Every word was spoken heatedly, challenging any in the room to disagree. No one rose at his words, though none shrank back either. After giving all in a attendance a harrowing stare, he slowly sat back down.

It was Legolas's turn next.

"I am Legolas, son of Thranduil. I offer my bow and my _celebtad_ to any orc, goblin, or odorous creature that crosses into our lands." His face was carefully expressionless and cold. When he had sat, Elrond nodded towards Húrin.

She slowly rose, trembling slightly, "I am Húrin, daughter of Methedras. I am a singer of the trees and would heal all who come under my care. Though my skill may be small presently, I would grow to learn more about this art until I have mastered it." Looking about her anxiously, she saw Elrond nod slightly and she began to sit down. However, before she could, Thranduil shot up.

"What is this?" The king shouted turning from Elrond to Húrin, stalking slowly towards her as he spoke, "Am I to understand that you will not fight? With all your knowledge of the forest and command over the trees?" he was but inches from her face as he slowly hissed his next words, "Have you no honor?"

Húrin felt angry and shameful tears rise in her eyes, but she stayed her voice so that they would not fall.

"I myself have witnessed what an asset her skills would be to patrols, or even armies." Elladan interjected, "I cannot even fathom the opportunities we would be afforded by having one such as Húrin. She was able to keep speed with Nardol, scout the location of goblins that escaped my nose and ears, and even more, she was able to tell me how they were armed."

Feeling cornered, Húrin scanned the room with panic, hoping that someone would affirm her decision. No one stirred.

Mithrandir then rose, "There is something to be said for duty, young Húrin. I would not dissuade you from following the convictions of your heart, but I would ask you to examine those convictions thoroughly."

Lord Elrond, meeting Húrin's eyes saw her plight and spoke, "There is still much to be decided that does not depend on Húrin. Perhaps we should speak of these things first." Thranduil, displeased, though able to reign himself in, straightened from his stoop in front of Húrin's face and returned to his chair.

"Olórin, tell us of your time near Amon Lanc. You spoke of an evil there?" continued Elrond.

As Mithrandir spoke, Húrin did her best to pay close attention, though she could feel that the eyes of Thranduil never left her. They bored into her, judging her and willing her to waver in her resolve.

All the while, the council discussed what could possibly be settling in Amon Lanc for a time and Húrin was very grateful that she was not expected to speak. She glanced furtively over at Legolas, wondering if he was as displeased with her as his father was.

He sat unmoving and stone faced throughout the discussion. As she continued to stare, he caught her glance and turned his gaze on her for a moment, before looking ahead again, as though she did not matter.

 _Húrin, do you care for me?_

Húrin jumped in her seat, as Legolas's voice appeared in her mind. They had not touched minds since their last race through the forest many weeks ago, and though the sound was familiar, it had an icy edge that had not been there before. He was still facing forward, face set as though he were not the one speaking.

 _I have seen you vaulting from limb to limb in the trees, shadowing my every step. I do not know if you had meant for me to notice you, but I know that you have followed me long. Why?_

Húrin winced. It was true, she had not meant for him to notice her. _I did not realize that you discerned my presence. I hope I did not overstep, my lord._

Legolas scoffed audibly. _I thought we had already spoken of titles. I hold them in disdain._ He paused. _And you have not answered my question._

A moment passed.

 _I am not sure myself why._ She answered honestly.

The space between their minds fell silent, both consumed in their own thoughts, then Legolas spoke softly into her mind.

 _Do you love me?_

Húrin was so startled that she almost fell out of her seat. She looked over at him with wide eyes. He now bore a smirk and gave her a cheeky sidelong glance. Her mind was a complete blank, and she could not summon any words, much less a response. He seemed to enjoy her speechlessness for a moment, taking it as an answer before his face turned grim.

 _Then why do you refuse to fight alongside me?_

The words hung in her mind, burrowing deeper and deeper, questioning all of what she thought she knew. After what seemed to be an eternity, she responded hesitantly.

 _I do not think that love is acquiescing to someone's demands._ She could not bring herself to answer his first question, for she truly did not know.

Any mirth that Legolas had shown towards her disappeared in an instant.

 _And what is love Húrin? You surely seem to know much about it for one who did not grieve for her own father._ He snapped back at her.

Húrin flinched back like she had been struck. He spoke truly, though she had not thought that anyone had noticed. She had not demanded that her father's body be brought back and placed in the land of his birth. She had not wept, nor visited his place of burial since the banquet for his death. And she would not.

 _You will not bring your father's murderers to justice. You will not defend our people. You would keep your gifts for your own desires and forgo the needs of others. And you will not stand with me in my time of need._ His face was forward, and where his face had been blank before, rage had seeped in. _How is it that this is love Húrin? Answer me!_

Húrin bowed her head, looking at her hands once more. _I do not know what love is. However, I believe ardently in what I know it not to be. I am tired of having this argument with you Legolas. Can you not understand how difficult this is for me? Would you use our friendship against me?_

She peeked up to see him gritting his teeth, his knuckles white as he gripped the chair more tightly.

 _We are not friends._ He shot back. _I do not keep company with cowards._

Húrin looked away from him again, afraid that she may either give into fear or anger if she looked on him again. She knew in heart that she had not the will end their friendship. She cared for him still deeply, though she no longer knew how to.

Legolas stared ahead darkly, determined not to look at her. As he stared ahead, he noted that Glorfindel was staring at the two of them with marked interest. How long he had been staring, Legolas didn't know. He thought it strange, though his mind was preoccupied with many other thoughts and he paid it no real mind.

The elflings, having finished their exchange both turned their attentions back to the council.

"...but how do we know it is not Sauron?" Elrohir challenged, standing. "Should we not assume that the enemy is formidable and be glad to be proven wrong? I do not understand how we can even be discussing another foe."

"Elrohir is right. We must act as though our worst fears have been realized." Elrond turned to Mithrandir, "Mithrandir, I trust that you will relay all of this news to the other members of the white council? We will fortify our lands, as well as take watches of Amon Lanc."

"I will only take up watch beyond our own lands, if she" Thranduil pointed at Húrin, "agrees to fight with us."

All eyes turned upon her. Fearfully she again surveyed the council and found that her voice had become stuck in her throat. Even Legolas turned to her expectantly, though his brow was still heavy with a dark fury.

Before she could manage to speak, Glorfindel stood, moving in front of her so that he was between her and King Thranduil. "King Thranduil, I know that vengeance has taken a hold of your heart, and perhaps this is rightfully so. You have suffered great loss. However, I do not believe the remedy lies in an elfling, forced into combat before she wills it or is ready. I propose a trade. I will take Húrin under my wing for such a time so as to prepare her for the coming evil days. This will be in a way that she and I both see fit. In exchange, Elrohir and Elladan shall remain with you as captains of the guard for you to command as you choose. I am sure that you can see the benefit of taking mature hardened warriors over the skills of a _gwinig_."

Elladan and Elrohir stood and turned to look at Glorfindel in disbelief.

"Are we your servants to be bartered on your whim or fancy Glorfindel?" Elladan challenged Glorfindel, looking between him and to his father for support.

Elrond seemed to be mulling it over, much to the horror of the twins.

" _Ada_? Do you believe us to be tokens that can be traded?" Elladan exclaimed, becoming more indignant. Elrohir appeared concerned, but placed a hand on Elladan's arm, trying to calm him.

"No my sons, I do not. However, I do believe that it may be wise for you to remain here. The danger is greatest and the need most dire. I have no need of two warriors with your level of skill in Imladris." He stated calmly. Elladan began to argue back, while Elrohir tried to intervene between the two.

Amidst this, she noted that Mithrandir looked to be deep in thought, making pointed eye contact with Glorfindel. Watching them, Húrin swore that they were speaking to one another in the manner that she and Legolas could.

She cocked her head so that she could see around Glorfindel to King Thranduil who had not taken his eyes off of Elrohir and Elladan. His eyes raked over them, no doubt assessing their skills and worthiness in battle.

Thranduil stood, "I accept these terms." All argument stopped. "I accept on the condition that Húrin will return here when she has finished her training under you, Glorfindel."

Húrin felt her future falling away on the weight of Thranduil's words. She looked up at Glorfindel's broad back questioningly, but he did not turn to face her. It seemed like the only way that Thranduil would allow her to live and not join the ranks of his army was through this trade she had not condoned.

Glorfindel nodded to Thranduil and held placed his arm diagonally over his chest with his fist over his heart. "With the stars as my witness, she shall return."

Thranduil returned the salute as did Elrond. He looked with intention at his sons and they turned towards the king, also raising their arms, though there was clear hesitance in their movements. Eyes then turned to Húrin expectantly, and she realized she also was meant to pledge her loyalty to this plan as well.

She met the eyes of Thranduil, burning her with his gaze, he eyes of Mithrandir, a hope mixed with peace, the eyes of Elladan and Elrohir matched that of their father, an interest as well as slight disappointment. Finally, she looked on the eyes of Legolas, and what she saw took her breath away. Unfathomable depths of grey that emanated strength and a burning that shook her to her very core. She could not tell if it was with hatred or care that the fire burned, but it was his intensity that gave her the strength to stand.

She again looked up at Glorfindel sticking her chin up in confidence, and crossed her arm over her chest. "I agree to these terms." She moved her eyes to fall upon Legolas's face once more. "With the stars as my witness."

The council nodded approvingly and slowly filed out. Elladan walked over to her before departing, placing his hand on her shoulder.

"It seems this is farewell for now _aew_. Glorfindel is a good elf. You are fortunate be in his company."

She nodded solemnly, " _La fael_ for your words Elladan. Though I must ask, why is it you call me _aew_?"

He chuckled, "I am surprised that one has not called you that sooner. You flit about in the trees like one who nests and grew there. I would think that if you had not the body of an elf, a bird may mistake you for one of its own."

She gave a small smile at that. She found Elladan to be both brash and warm at the same time, and she enjoyed his presence. "I shall remember that."

He patted her on the head and left. The only ones who remained were Glorfindel and Thranduil who were speaking in heated and hushed tones. Sensing that she still lingered in the room, they abruptly ended their conversation.

"Be prepared to leave at dawn tomorrow, _gwein elleth [young elf(f)]_. I shall be waiting for you at the stables, we make haste for Arnor." Glorfindel commanded without emotion and then walked out of the chamber.

Thranduil eyed her, his intensity reminding her of Legolas's parting gaze, though the fire that burned in his eyes was more plainly of displeasure. He stalked toward her in fluid, intimidating strides, stooping once more so that his face was but inches from hers. He circled her as he spoke, his voice all encompassing.

"My wife gave her life for yours, young Húrin. Never forget this. A great lady of her people, worth more than all the treasures of all the dwarven kingdoms combined. Do not act as though your life belongs solely to you, You have already shown yourself to be ungrateful of the lifeblood spilled on your account. I await your return with eagerness. Do not disappoint me." He finished as he straightened and also left the chamber, leaving Húrin alone.

oo00oo

* * *

"No, use your mouth as anchor for the arrow Legolas. Imagine that your arrows are ships that are to be launched. They must harbor first." Instructed Cúthalion.

Legolas furrowed his brow as he raised another arrow, "Perhaps if you spoke with a clearer tongue I would already be a great archer."

Cúthalion merely chuckled and prompted him to shoot another arrow.

Legolas turned toward the target with a great look of intensity, careful to bring his arrow all the way back to the corner of his mouth. He let the arrow fly, landing it in the second ring from the middle. He looked with disgust on his face towards the mark and picked up another arrow.

Cúthalion just sighed and began to walk towards Elladan, who had come to shoot out his own frustrations from the council at the field. Cúthalion knew that Legolas would be there until his arms failed him, which could be very late into the night and any words that he said would no longer reach the prince's ears.

Legolas did not acknowledge him leaving. He was far too concentrated on the target in front of him. He was lost in both time and thought. Arrow after arrow flew towards the target, each one thudding hard against the target.

Notch, anchor, aim, release.

Notch, anchor, aim, release.

The rhythm became almost a melody in the evening air, lulling Legolas deeper into his thoughts. He felt the frustration of the council settle on him, giving strength to his shooting. Somehow his friendship with Húrin had gone so wrong. It seemed like ages ago that they had stood before Elrond, Methedras, Celebrian, and his mother, vowing to do all they could in the future to stop the coming darkness. How could she waver now when it was so clear how to proceed? How could she not see how these creatures deserved death? He could not hate her no matter how hard he tried, or how harsh were the words that came from his lips.

Or how many lies he told her.

He had implied feelings beyond friendship to try and sway her mind.

 _Do you love me?_

The words echoed back in his mind. He had always read of princes with charm, and ladies swooning into their arms. He needed Húrin, more than he needed to be truthful. A small part of him spat back at him in shame that he would toy with anyone, but the much larger majority reasoned that it was for the greater good.

Though as he thought back to how he felt as Elladan spoke with her so freely, he was not so sure it was a lie. He had not enjoyed looking on as Elladan had touched her shoulder, called her a pet name, and brought a smile to her face. _Aew_? How childish! Perhaps she could be compared to a great eagle or bird of prey, but she was no small bird to be mocked.

A soft touch on his arm jerked him awake as he spun around, arrow still notched.

As he spun, he searched for who had startled him, landing on the face of Húrin, who looked at him with the same sad eyes she had worn since her ambush.

Although her eyes widened slightly at his reaction, she calmly placed a hand on his bow hand and lowered it until the arrow pointed to the ground.

"I am leaving Legolas and I do not wish to part on the terms as we left them." she nearly whispered.

He placed his bow and arrow aside and placed his hand over his right hand on his heart and left on her shoulder. "I know you must do as your heart has swayed you. Though I wish you would train alongside me, I know where your spirit lies." He had been preparing for this moment, and rehearsed these words to himself, hoping to at least keep their parting amicable. His words burned in his mouth as he released them however, and he knew that Húrin saw the emptiness in them.

"Legolas," she faltered, "I cannot stay as you subject your heart to the rending and malice of others. Please, do not allow the villainy of the hour to poison your mind." She looked pointedly at the bow and arrows at his side.

Turning away from her and he picked up his bow as though she had not spoken. He did not wish to have this conversation again and the inevitable argument that would ensue after it.

She watched as he notched an arrow before she turned and walking away from the archery field.

" _Guren níniatha n'i lû n'i a-govenitham, Húrin [My heart shall weep until I see you again]_." He whispered in a voice so quiet that even the keen ears of a receding she-elf did not hear.

* * *

oo00oo

 **There you guys go! I told you it would be a slow burn .. Please let me know what you think! Also, still looking for a beta. Things would probably go a lot faster with one. Translating all the elvish alone takes a lot of time as well 0.o But hopefully it's all worth it, and you guys enjoyed it (: Hopefully sill update soon! Oh, and the opening poem to this one is actually a song. I highly recommend listening to it if you have the time. It's REALLY good.**


	7. Chapter 7: In the Years Apart

**A/N: Hey guys! I'm back haha... I have been working on this chapter for what feels like forever. It was initially supposed to be longer, but I really wanted to post something because it's just been too long. WARNING: We meet dark Legolas for a time, and I just want to assure you that he is not here to stay. Also, I am beginning with a character list because I know it's been a while and also, there are now a lot of characters in this story. Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoy (:**

Character List:

Legolas/princeling - son of King Thranduil (born 1015 TA)

Hurin _/aew_ \- daughter of Methedras, singer of the trees (born 1018 TA)

Lord Elrond - Ruler of Imladris/Rivendell

King Thranduil - Ruler of Eryn Galen

Mithrandir/Olorin - One of the 5 Maiar sent by the Ainur (sent in the TA)

Glorfindel - Reincarnated elf with great (unknown) powers, was a great warrior in the FA, sent by the Ainur in 1600 SA

Cuthalion - Great bowman of the guard in Eryn Galen, training Legolas

Elladan - son of Elrond, on loan to King Thranduil (born 130 TA)

Elrohir - son of Elrond, on loan to King Thranduil (born 130 TA)

King Mallor - inconsequential king of Arnor

Edegil - horse of Hurin

* * *

But not to call me back or say good-bye;  
And further still at an unearthly height,  
One luminary clock against the sky

Proclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right  
I have been one acquainted with the night.

- _Robert Frost (Acquainted with the Night)_

 _oo_

00

oo

 _1065 of the Third Age_

 _Spring_

"I do not hear it." Húrin complained, pouting a bit in frustration.

Glorfindel ignored her pout, patiently placing her hand again against the earth, "When searching for a song, it is best to listen, not with haste, but with peace."

Húrin fought the urge to roll her eyes. Glorfindel was as bad as Mithrandir, speaking in riddles and indiscernible wisdom.

It had now been 16 years of wandering Middle Earth by Glorfindel's side, and he had taught her much. Though Húrin knew she had grown in her skills by leaps and bounds, the more time she spent with him, the more she realized just how much she did not know. She now had a relatively fluid grasp of the Common Tongue, histories (and from that strategies of war), and general healing skills. He had not even begun to instruct her in her particular gift, and the topic of combat had been avoided by them both. She still felt woefully unprepared to be any sort of help in the coming dark days. What disheartened her even more was that the only other companion that occasionally joined them on their travels was Mithrandir. He was kind, and patient just as Glorfindel was, which made it all the more infuriating that she was constantly the least wise, least powerful, and least helpful.

She furrowed her brow in concentration and tried to not force herself to hear things, concentrating on her palm against the cool earth.

Nothing.

She huffed and drew away from the ground, sitting back against a tree. Now them, she could understand.

"Do you understand what you are listening for?" Glorfindel asked, studying her frustrated face.

Húrin looked crossly at him. "I do not pretend to understand what I am supposed to hear. How can I hear a song from something that has not, is not, and will never draw breath? It has no mind to hear."

Glorfindel sighed, settling into a cross-legged position across from her, "Tell me of the creation of the world."

"Eru was before all." Húrin began, dutifully reciting what she had learned, "He was the creator of the Ainur-"

Glorfindel cut her off, "And how did Eru create?"

"Through music." she said slowly, an inkling growing in her mind. She paused for a moment, and then looked at Glorfindel as she understood.

"Oh." She gasped, eyes wide.

He gave her a knowing nod and a slight smile played on his lips. "Yes. It is as you think it to be." He turned to look up at the sky as he also leaned back against a tree. "You have wondered at how a song may be heard out of the very earth when there is no life there. But the world was created from the Music of the Ainur. It hums in the very heart of everything here in Middle Earth, even the winds and the ground. If you can hear it, you will have Vision of the shaping of the earth, who treads its soils, and what intent every creature on it has. While waiting outside the Halls of Mandos, I heard the Ainur call it _glîr [song/poem]_."

Húrin blinked, both elated and in wonder. "How is it that I can hear the _glîr_ of the trees so clearly, and yet not even in others of my own kin?"

"Sentient creatures, or what we think of as sentient, have much more complex melodies. They are more difficult to discern, and even more difficult to influence. Though, I do not know exactly what your gifting is, so there may be other reasons that have difficulty hearing the melodies of other Eldar. However, from what I have seen, I can tell you a few things."

Húrin sat up eagerly, now very ready to listen.

"You are especially sensitive to the songs that run through the trees, you hear them as easily as you hear my voice now, yes?"

She nodded vigorously.

"Do you remember how the Ainur contributed to Eru's song?" He continued.

She thought for a moment, "Was it not in the harmony that they added to his music?"

He nodded. "When you speak with the trees, the very essence of them, you add a harmony to them. In doing so, you are able to change them as you become part of them and are able to help direct their music ir _glîr_ , which is, their hearts. You are fluent in the language of their song if you will. You understand and are able to resonate with their deepest levels of being and thus can act as one of them."

Húrin sank back against the tree in amazement. It all made sense. Though she could understand and communicate with the trees freely, to truly persuade them, she sang. In doing so, she didn't really think. Something resonated within her, deeply and that is what called out to the trees, singing the words that she did not even know she knew. Even the time that she had been able to open her mind to all their allies in the ambush became clear. She had tuned into their songs, but had not the fluency to change their melodies.

Thinking back through all the instances where she had spoken into minds, she realized one occurrence didn't make sense. She blinked, confused.

 _Then how is it that Legolas and I are able to speak with one another?_ She thought, for surely she did not understand him at his core. She considered asking Glorfindel, but then thought better of it. Now that she gave it some consideration, she perceived that Legolas was the one who was able to find her with ease. The thought of him fully understanding her terrified her, and she pushed it out of her mind.

"Are you ready to listen for the music of the earth now Húrin?" Glorfindel asked, breaking her out of her musings.

She sat up, positioning both her palms against the ground. "I am ready."

oo00oo

 _1075 of the Third Age_

 _Summer_

"I yield." Legolas growled out, flat on his back with a blade pointed at his heart.

Elladan stood over him, breathing hard. The young prince of Eryn Galen now resembled an elf in his adolescence. He now commanded growing strength, and long, slightly gangly, limbs coming to a height of near 2 meters tall. The sparring sessions between himself and Legolas had also grown. They were much longer, where before, Legolas would quickly lose patience and lash out, he now had thought and intent behind his movements. In their many skirmishes, Legolas had begun to learn when a twitch in his opponent preceded an attack, how the balance of one's feet could allow him to foresee where their next blow could land, and how to use momentum and weight to his advantage. His eyes were keen, and his motions, deadly and efficient.

He still had yet to win against the twins, but the sparring sessions were becoming longer and longer with the twins needing a moment to recover their breath upon forcing him to yield. To Legolas's advantage, he was also fearsome and tireless. Where Elladan had been annoyed at his brashness at first, he was now beginning to fear it. Something burned within Legolas. A rage that fueled him to work harder and progress faster than any other elf Elladan had ever seen. He thought that part of the reason may have been his father's orders, forbidding him to join patrols until he was able to defeat at least one of the twins in combat, a great feat for there was 900 years of experience for him to make up for.

Elrohir handed Elladan a damp cloth with a chuckle, "Take this my brother, for it seems that you have need of it."

Elladan scowled, unwilling to admit just how close the match had been. "You see falsely if you believe me to be tired. I feel perfectly at ease brother." He nonetheless reached out to take the cloth and wiped his face.

Legolas was already standing back up, and crouching into a fighting stance.

Elrohir turned to Legolas, "It is my turn to spar with you _gwinig [child]_. I shall not go as easy on you as my brother." He said, shooting a teasing glance at Elladan as he stepped forward.

Elladan's scowl deepened, turning to the elfling. "Perhaps I even wish you victory this time Legolas so that my brother may learn a little humility."

Legolas did not respond to either of the brother's comments. As soon as Elrohir had stepped forward, all of his focus honed in on him and him alone. The twins often jested with one another, while Legolas impatiently waited for them to finish so that they may continue training.

The combatants waited for a cue from Cúthalion. With a nod of his head and a sweep of his arm, he motioned for them to begin.

Legolas charged a few paces forward, testing Elrohir's defenses. He found that fighting against a blade versus other _celebtad_ (dual elven knives), was much more frustrating, and it had taken him quite some time to understand a long sword's movements and pivot points. As he engaged, he noted that Elrohir kept his weight on the balls of his feet as he parried, which Legolas had learned, makes for quick and easy movements forward and backward, but difficulty in the side-to-side latitude. Legolas continued to engage him in a backward and forward motion, creating a predictable pattern of attack.

Legolas feinted forward with the knife in his left hand, which Elrohir moved easily to parry. Legolas grinned inwardly, he had taken the bait. Moving widely to the side, Legolas quickly lunged to the right, the knife in his left hand sweeping across so that the flat of the blade would connect with the inside of Elrohir's right calf. As he turned, he used the knife that had already connected with Elrohir's blade to slide up the blade, twisting it at the same time, forcing the hilt to spin away from Elrohir's hands.

Elrohir saw it all happen as in slow motion. His eyes widened for a fraction of a second as he realized he was indeed off balance. However, his reflexes, honed by nine hundred years of battle kicked in. Seeing that his left leg was about to be swung out from under him, he purposefully let his sword be wrenched from his grip. As Legolas connected with his leg, he allowed his left leg to be swept up, which put his right leg immediately in front of Legolas's unprotected face. Elrohir kicked out, catching himself against the ground with his newly freed hands.

The prince tumbled backwards landing on his back, dropping his knives, hands flying to his face. Elrohir quickly kipped up, grabbed his sword and placed the blade lightly against the prince's throat. Blood trickled out between Legolas's fingers.

From behind his hands, Legolas's muffled voice came, "I yield."

Elrohir, slightly shaken, nodded and turned to walk towards his brother who now extended a cool towel to him. Elrohir took it, moving to stand next to Elladan.

In a low voice Elladan turned to his brother, "Had that been a real battle _hanar [brother]_ , you would be without a leg, and Legolas's face would still be intact."

Elrohir nodded, still looking on the prince who was nursing a bloody nose. " _Iston [I know]._ " He responded quietly.

Cúthalion examined Legolas's nose for a moment before declaring it not to be broken.

Elrohir gave the prince an easy smile, "This is well. For there would be great weeping in Greenwood should our _ellon [elf (m.)]_ with such a fair face have a crooked nose."

Legolas growled, refusing to entertain him. "I care not. Prepare yourself, for we shall spar again." He said, crouching down again.

Elrohir looked wearily at Elladan. Elladan place his hand sympathetically on Elrohir's shoulder and then turned to Legolas.

"I believe it is my turn again." He said stepping forward.

Cúthalion shook his head, for even after all these years, he could only feel hatred coming from his prince. With a heavy hand, he once more raised his arm and nodded for them to commence.

oo00oo

 _1085 of the Third Age_

 _Fall_

"And what do you propose to do with them?" Mithrandir demanded, commanding the attentions of the entire court.

King Mallor hesitated, clearly intimidated by the wizard, "I have never had much taste for dwarves-"

"We are not dwarves!" came an indignant shout from a small crowd of what appeared to be short, barefoot men.

One stepped forward, "Beggin' your pardon sir, but we are Hobbits." he said, straightening his jacket.

Húrin studied the creature. She and Glorfindel had often visited the court of Arnor, following the great civil war that had just occurred in the territory. Glorfindel made it a point to often speak with leaders of the land while it was again gaining stability. This journey to the northern kingdom of the Dúnedain, however, had been spurred by Mithrandir. From the raven that he had sent, it seemed that there was a new people in Middle Earth that called themselves Hobbits. They were much shorter than men or elves, though their feet were disproportionately large and hairy. Húrin had already been trying to listen to the song of their minds, and all she was getting was dirt.

When they had first arrived over the Misty Mountains, Dúnedain patrols had picked up a few for questioning. The times were evil on Middle Earth and suspicion was the most prevalent of the qualities of lords in these lands.

"And what pray tell, is a hobbit?" questioned the king. There was murmuring throughout the room, as the poor hobbit shuffled his feet while twisting something in his hands nervously.

"We have just undertaken a rough journey over the Misty Mountains. You see, it's not in our nature to wander, sir. But we don't mean no trouble! We have all felt the shadow spreading across Middle Earth, and we have come to make our home far away it. We just want a nice plot o' land where we can grow gardens and make a nice 'obbit hole."

Mithrandir moved to stand close to the hobbit, keeping eye contact with the king. "These are an honest people, King Mallor. Do not hinder them. Allow them to travel through your lands in peace."

Húrin reached out, listening for the song of Glorfindel's mind. To anyone who was in tune with the _glîr_ of other creatures, two distinct, bright melodies sang stronger than any other in the kingly hall and resonated deeply within the strong music of the earth. One she knew certainly belonged to Glorfindel. Over their travels, Húrin had become attuned to Glorfindel's very specific _glîr_. It rang evenly, and peacefully, never changing and yet never the same. The melody became a source of comfort for her, washing over her like a stream, she could lose herself in it. The other, equally powerful if not more so, was volatile and filled with high trills followed by dissonant chords. Mithrandir's _glîr_ was as unpredictable as it was terrifying. Sifting through the otherwise soft melodies of the other minds, she gently prodded Glorfindel's mind.

Sensing her intent, Glorfindel met her eyes. _Yes Húrin?_

 _Are they as_ _Olórin says? I cannot get anything from them. They sound as the earth does._

Glorfindel turned his gaze back on the hobbits, _They are indeed an honest people. They revere the earth and many generations of their people have spent time caring for and understanding its nature. Perhaps that is why you hear what you do._

 _How is it that Olórin has called us all the way to the court of Arnor for a group of short gardeners?_ Húrin thought impatiently. She really detested politics and the many hours of tedious diplomacy that Glorfindel often partook in. Part of the reason was because Glorfindel had begun her mental training in earnest. Not only was she to be practicing parsing out the melodies and thoughts of other minds, but she was also supposed to be picking up on intentions. Glorfindel had explained that because music was the fabric from which everything was woven, there was a dominant theme or melody that permeated throughout Middle Earth. This theme was of the very Vision shown by Eru to the Ainur in the beginning. Creatures that did not resonate with this same melody had discordant tendencies to their _glîr_ and thus could immediately be singled out as enemies.

During every council meeting thereafter, Glorfindel would ask Húrin for an assessment of all the members in attendance. What their thoughts were, and if any had had evil intent.

Much to her chagrin, she was not good at it.

More often than not, she could not discern more than a handful of thoughts and absolutely no intentions. What is more, she noticed that men would shy away from her due to the intensity on her face as she tried desperately to discern their _glîr_. The effort left her tired, drained, frustrated, and feeling woefully inadequate.

 _Olórin believes these little ones to yet have a great part to play in this coming age._

Húrin again looked at the creatures, only this time with open fascination. She could not fathom what sort of use these little ones could have that did not already exist amongst the peoples of Middle Earth. _Do they have an exceptional grasp of magic or strength?_ She inquired, feeling rather confused.

Glorfindel turned to look at her with a slight upturn of his lips. _They are exceptionally good at hiding,_ his smile broadened as he saw her confusion grow, _and have true hearts._

She shook her head, not feeling as though anything had been made clear. But trusting Glorfindel and Mithrandir, she kept silent.

oo00oo

 _1095 of the Third Age_

 _Winter_

The light of dusk shimmered on the forest floor, strewn about by the snow that robed the trees of the forest now called Mirkwood by men. Spiders, goblins, orcs, and all manner of other foul creature had taken up residence in alarming numbers within the once great forest. Patrols of elves were sent out regularly from Eryn Galen, keeping their kingdom clear of the loathsome creatures as ordered by King Thranduil. Not only this, but the residences of the elves that had once been spread throughout the forest were now concentrated in a tight knot around the Halls of the Elvenking. The forest that had so long kept them in comfort, had now turned on them, hiding their enemies and haunting their shadows.

Legolas rode in the middle of a party of elves, trying to maneuver his horse, Brilthor, to the front. There had been reports of spiders residing in this area, and their party had already been two days on the road, working to locate their nest.

He was brimming with impatience and excitement. A fortnight ago, he had finally overtaken Elladan in combat. He had been so close so many times. But the feeling of exhilaration as he finally was able to press the tip of his _celebtad_ against Elladan's neck had been well worth the wait. He was finally allowed to patrol, and though his heart hungered for the blood of orcs and goblins, the spiders had becoming a more pressing matter in the Forest Realm.

" _Daro hortha nin_ _[cease your speed]._ " Elrohir cooed to Brilthor as he softly lay his hand on the horse's flank.

Legolas shot him a glance of hostility. The only blackmark on this otherwise day of freedom peered back at him with twin sets of grey, unblinking eyes.

Elrohir and Elladan flanked him on either side, working just as hard to keep him between their horses as Legolas was to escape them.

 _Father may as well have sent babysitters_. Huffed Legolas.

The two seasoned fighters looked about them with keen eyes. Wisdom, and wariness sat with equal weight upon their broad shoulders. The hazel color of their hair, pulled back into a braid looked what might even be described as beautiful, though any enemy knew that elven hair braided meant they were readying for war. The only elf who did not have his hair prepared for battle was Legolas, who insisted on wearing his ceremonial braids, though not practical, he could not be dissuaded. The three princes continued to ride in a line, though they wore no adornments that may denote their higher rank as per Thranduil's instruction.

A bird stirred above, disturbing a branch heavy with snow. The snow dropped, landing cold and wet on Legolas's head.

Immediately, he grabbed his bow off his back, notched an arrow, and pointed it skyward where the offending snow had fallen from.

"Perhaps, _gwinig_ , you should put your energy a little less into maneuvering your horse away from us, and more into your surroundings." Elladan chided with a small chuckle.

Legolas, still covered in snow, stowed his bow and glowered at Elladan. "We have been riding these two days and have not encountered any creature to speak of, foul or otherwise. I begin to question the reports that we had of spiders."

He paused for a moment, "And do not call me _gwinig_ , when I have bested you in arms, Elladan."

"From your countenance Legolas, I would think that you actually desired to find invaders and reprehensible creatures in your forests. I would not think that a prince would hope such ill upon his own land. If we find nothing, is that also not a victory?" chimed in Elrohir.

The whole party moved restlessly at the comment, for they all knew the prince wanted blood.

"I desire the safety of my peoples Elrohir, do not question that." Legolas conceded with no emotion, "But I also desire justice to those we have lost." his face remained ambivalent.

The brothers glanced at each other, wary of Legolas's answer and silently agreeing to watch him closely. For though he proved himself to be deadly and effective in sparring, he had never tasted real combat.

The forest around them began to darken, shadows growing longer and the light fading. The party began to light torches, sending out small orbs of warmth and light.

Suddenly, the twins perked up in their saddles, their heads on a swivel.

The elf at the head of the party straightened in her saddle a moment later, alarmed as she quickly looked back at the other elves with a pointed gaze. Directing with hand signals, the party seamlessly separated into three groups. Two thirds dismounted their horses, whispering instructions to them before half of them mounted branches, stealthily making their way through the treetops. The others on the ground melted into the brush of the forest. The last third, that included Elladan, Elrohir, and Legolas, rode on cautiously, ears vigilant, eyes scrutinizing the darkness.

Before Legolas even heard a sound or warning, Elladan squinted and then abruptly pulled the bow off his back, loosing an arrow into the darkness. He heard a sickening squelching noise followed by a shrill tittering scream, a sign that the arrow had hit its mark.

With awe, Legolas turned to Elladan.

"Do not turn and look at me _gwinig_." he hissed quietly, "These creatures are not here to spar with you, they will not hold back. _Natir_ _lín [be on your guard]._ "

The scream of the wounded spider in the distance grew, as a host of screams added to its pleas. Legolas squinted into the black, but he could not tell if the hoard was being cut down by the other elves in the forest, or if they were merely growing enraged and in number. His eyes had not yet adjusted to the dim depths of the forest. On his right and his left, the twins had shot four or five arrows each. Their eyes seemed to pierce the darkness in a way that his could not, as they scanned, cocked their heads in recognition and shot, arrow after arrow landing true.

Frustrated, Legolas dismounted, unsheathing his knives. If he stayed between these two elven warriors, he realized that he would not slay a single spider. Elladan and Elrohir were too preoccupied with the sights and sounds of spiders to pay Legolas much mind and so he sprinted forward into the darkness, fear and fury adding urgency to his steps. He closed his eyes, relying on his heightened hearing and smell, blending with the underbrush.

He heard shuffling to his right. Crouching down, and opening his eyes, he hoped they had now adjusted to the darkness. He could just see the grotesque silhouette of many legs on a hairy body, sharp fangs in the front and a longer, deadly barb in the back.

Without a moment's pause, Legolas leapt out towards the spider, moving swiftly and silently, barely grazing the brush around him. He grasped his knives firmly in each hand. Before the spider even realized his presence, he darted to its side and slashed through three of its legs. The spider reeled, screaming as its blood flowed from now wriggling stumps. Vainly it tried to right itself, and offensively take on this new threat. Legolas did not allow it to recover, placing himself directly beneath the spider's head, crossing his knives around its neck, and slicing down to his sides, beheading it. Hot liquid dripped from the hull of the now headless spider onto Legolas's neck as he stood beneath its lifeless body. The eyes on the severed head of the spider twitched in front of him, muscles spasming erratically.

He looked down on the pitiable head in disgust. So this was death. The only other time he had seen it had been from afar as he saw his father cradle his mother's body. It was disgusting and unnatural. The thought of his mother, suffering anything like this wretched spider, made his blood begin to burn within him. His lips curled into a cruel smile. He was almost gleeful at the rightful death of this monster.

Rage grew in his chest, slowly expanding, taking control of his limbs and his sight until he saw nothing but red before him. His movements were not his own as he clenched his fists and yelled into the sky, driving his knives again into the dead spider, hacking at it with practiced strokes. The fury had completely taken over as he whipped his head toward any sound or flicker of movement that reached his eyes and ears. He was not even aware that more spiders had flocked to their dead companion, and he was now in a sea of spiders, pushing the limits of his elven speed as he danced among them, a tornado of lethal knives. More and more spiders came, drawn be the cries of the dying and the enraged shouts of a killer.

Time had no meaning to Legolas as he continued to cut through the growing crowd, his only thought outrage at the injustice done to him and his family. He did not see the gruesome array of carcasses around him. He did not see the rest of the elven guard charging from all directions toward him, fighting through the sea of spiders. He did not hear the warnings shouted from the archers above to steer clear of their arrows. And he did not see the twins as he lashed out at their reaching hands, trying to still him.

"Legolas!"

 _Had no right. She was kind, she didn't deserve death at your hands._

"Legolas!"

 _Why? How could she be taken? Oh Eru, why have you allowed this to happen?_

"Legolas!"

Legolas blinked, finally realizing someone had been shouting his name. He also realized that his cheeks were strangely wet. He swallowed, and found that his throat was raw, and his arms were held in a vice-like grip. Blinking again, Elrohir's face came into focus. Had he been shouting his name?

"Elrohir…" Legolas managed to croak out, "...wha-what have you done? Why are you restraining me?"

"What have I done? What have _you_ done?!" Elladan strode forward, shoving aside his brother and grabbing Legolas's shoulders, "You disregarded everything you have learned from Cúthalion! Your disregarded everything you learned from us! You have endangered your entire party with your recklessness and vendetta. Surely, you were not ready for this."

Legolas felt again the rage within him welling up. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, Elrohir stepped towards him, placing his hand on Elladan's shoulder.

" _Hanar [brother]_." He said gently to Elladan.

The fire in Elladan's eyes diminished a little. He looked back at Legolas, dropping his grip on his shoulders.

Elrohir looked at Legolas with eyes, full of deep joy and deep sorrow, the same gaze that all elder elves held. And before Legolas could move, Elrohir took him in a tight embrace.

Shocked for a moment, he soon went limp against Elrohir's broad chest, allowing the tears to flow.

oo00oo

"And you think this darkness to be of what evil?" Inquired King Thranduil.

Elrohir looked at Elladan, who nodded in encouragement.

"It is greater than I have felt anywhere else in the forest. Elladan and I have scouted long, and we are certain that evil resides within Amon Lanc. Upon finding the nest of spiders, there is little doubt in my mind that they chose their home because of the strength they garner from the evil that lurks there. We would like to arrange a party of elves you deem strongest among their kinsmen to investigate this power. We do not know how great the danger."

King Thranduil paced before them, looking at the twins with scrutiny.

"And what of my son? I see that he has returned from his first patrol with no visible marks of injury. What have you to say of his skill in combat?"

Elrohir again uneasily looked at Elladan whose lips grew to a thin line in displeasure.

Elrohir turned back to the king, "My Lord, he is formidable in battle, and slew many more enemies than any other in the guard." He paused, hesitating.

Thranduil felt his uncertainty and raised a dark brow. "Tell on, Elrohir, for what can there be to say beyond this?"

Elrohir met Thranduil's eyes, trying to convey the gravity of his next statement, "The prince is driven by bloodlust and rage, King Thranduil. He has not the discipline to obey his commander. He endangered many of the party with his recklessness, and I submit that he is not ready to join the guard."

Thranduil tilted his head, pacing closer to the twins. His face, leered at them with slightly widened eyes, like an elf crazed.

"You speak of discipline, yet none have been on the training fields as often as my son. You speak of obedience, and yet he slew the most enemies." Thranduil's calm facade began to drop as his voice grew louder, "If it is rage that drives him than so be it, for he is strong! What we need is strength, not the well wishes of the weak. Have you anything to report that condemns him for his lack of skill? Speak to me of that, not the perceived moralities of his character."

"I believe that there is much to be said for strength King Thranduil, yet you cannot disregard an elf's character just because he is strong. For the drive of an elf determines where his hammer will fall. The bigger the hammer, and greater the arm, the more concern it is that the character behind it will land on evil and not on the good." Elrohir pushed, not wavering in his words or his stance.

"Do you truly believe Legolas to be a kinslayer, son of Elrond?" Thranduil hissed back.

"He almost was!" Interjected Elladan, no longer able to hold his peace.

Thranduil snapped his head towards Elladan, questioning and anger etched in his face.

"In his blindness and his rage, he was unable to tell friend from foe. Though his skill is great, in the heat of the battle, he lashed out at everything that had breath. It is only through superior strength and experience that we were able to restrain him in the last." Elladan bit out.

Thranduil stood to his full height. "This is your full report then?"

The twins both nodded, unblinking.

"Then I submit that he merely needs more training in the field. You will bring him on this errand to Amon Lanc."

Elladan's face soured. "You would endanger the mission, and your own guard for the sake of Legolas?"

Thranduil smiled in a way that did not reach his eyes, and turned away from the twins. "That is my command, I will have the other captains of the guard confer with you about the others who will accompany you. You are dismissed." He waved his hand in a condescending manner.

Elrohir, anticipating his brother's outrage, placed his hand around his brother's shoulders and lead him away before he could speak. When they were outside the Halls of the Elvenking, Elladan's shoulders finally relaxed.

"He is not _our_ king, I believe we have been here for far too long." Elladan said darkly.

Elrohir sighed, "Our father agreed to this arrangement, it is but a short time for us. Let us make the best of it."

"I am not sparring with the young spoiled princeling anymore."

"And I would not ask it of you. But if he is to accompany us to Amon Lanc, he cannot lose himself like he did before. We must take him out on more scouting patrols so he can learn to control his rage in combat."

Elladan clenched his fist, and ground it against a tree, causing the snow laden branches to shed their burdens. "If we are to truly train him in that way, we must delay the survey on Amon Lanc, perhaps for even a few years' time! This is folly to bring one so young along, however skilled he may be."

Elrohir nodded, "I agree _hanar_ , but we cannot be the cause of unfriendliness between Ithilien and Eryn Galen. We must try to manage it if it is within reason. It is only just, so we must adhere to it."

Elladan looked sullen for a moment and then slowly nodded in agreement. "I do not truly believe that we can remove the rage from him. It runs too deeply. The best we may be able to achieve is a way to channel the rage."

"Wise words Elladan. I believe that would be best also. We should also confer with Cúthalion to discern whether he has any insights."

Elladan, face still grave unclenched his fist, resting it on his brother's shoulder. " _Guren glassui_ _nodh di im, hanar lin_. _[My heart is glad that you are with me, my brother]._ "

Elrohir smiled, a gentle soft smile tinged with sadness. Clasping his brother's shoulder, they walked together to the training grounds.

oo00oo

 _1100 of the Third Age_

 _Spring_

The trees were just beginning to bear blossoms and life seemed to be peeking out from under every bough and bush. Húrin closed her eyes, feeling the _glîr_ of new life trill through the air. She was now sensitive enough to its presence that she could discern the seasons by the song that floated in the air, a background to all the thoughts of the creatures that lived in them.

Spring was her definite favorite and she gloried in the hum of life in the air. It was electrifying to her very bones. The feeling of waking up to the song was almost enough to quell the uneasiness in her stomach.

"We are now within an hour's ride." announced Glorfindel.

Her uneasiness bubbled up a little more.

"Are you well Húrin? You look positively ill." remarked Mithrandir with a chuckle.

She scowled at him, "Mithrandir, you know perfectly well the anxiety that I have in returning to Eryn Galen. I would not have you make it worse. I believe that Edegil would not enjoy the contents of my stomach upon his mane."

Edegil snorted in response, shaking his mane in distaste.

"Peace young Húrin." chided Glorfindel, "You have nothing to fear. The wrath that King Thranduil once held for you has waned with the passing of days. He now holds anger only for himself."

Húrin buried her face in her hands. She had not even thought of him! Her first thought had been of Legolas. What must he be like after all this time? Would he remember her? Hate her? Or...her heart skipped a beat, love her? The disappointed faces of Legolas, Elrond, and Thranduil flashed through her mind and she felt sure that she really would wretch upon Edegil. It had been a fortnight ago that Mithrandir had joined their company once more and urged them to join him in his journey to Eryn Galen. He alluded that his journey had to do with the great evil nesting in Amon Lanc, but had not said much else.

"Glorfindel…" Húrin hesitated. She knew that they really should have had this conversation long ago, but she had avoided bringing it up, and Glorfindel had never mentioned it, so she hadn't worried. But now, so close to Eryn Galen, she felt she needed to clarify something. "When you were granted your request of taking me on as your apprentice, I believe that King Thranduil only agreed to the terms of your bargain because he thought you were training me to fight."

She paused, waiting for Glorfindel to respond. He did not, so she continued, still fidgeting nervously in her saddle, "I believe that upon my return, he expects a great warrior, a hunter with the ability to locate and read minds. I have learned almost none of these things. Will it not greatly displease him when I have learned so little?"

She anxiously looked back at Glorfindel again.

"The king is a fool in his anger. He is grieved, and has not yet returned to his right mind. I would not regard any of his words as wisdom or truth until he is able to see beyond his own tears." Mithrandir grumbled.

Glorfindel looked at her affectionately, before staring into the sky. "There are many things at play in this age. You have learned much that you need to know for the times to come Húrin. Do not let the opinions of one elf dissuade your confidence or heart to help." He turned to gaze at her again, his expression more serious, but still kind. "You will fight when all is over Húrin, do not doubt this truth. It will not be from fury or hate, but you will take life."

Húrin's eyes widened, and tears threatened to spill over. This could not be true. Glorfindel couldn't know everything. She would certainly rather be killed herself than force another to die.

She did not have much time to think however, for the horses were now on a path that she clearly recognized as leading to the Hall of the Elvenking. There were many more tree homes than she remembered near the city, though now that she thought about it, she hadn't seen almost any elves outside the city center.

She willed Edegil to slow down, trying to delay the meeting as long as possible. She also wondered if any of the elves she knew in Eryn Galen even knew of their coming. She was not sure which was worse, being greeted at the entrance, or having to seek an audience within the hall itself. Either way, the sick feeling in her stomach continued to grow.

Her eyes were focused on her hands, as she took deep calming breaths, concentrating on the calming song of Glorfindel's mind.

The moment she reached out for his _glîr_. Her mind immediately became aware of a song that was not one she remembered hearing, and yet completely familiar. It was of a river gone cold, icy, and muted with sharp, abrupt changes.

She looked up, locking eyes with Legolas, in a face not quite like the one she used to know.

His eyes were grey, as they had always been, though now they were sharper, keener. Looking into them, she felt caught, as though she were being hunted and drunk in. There was no baby fat at all left on his face, his sculpted nose and sharp jaw line in contrast to the dark arch of his full brows and slight curve of his lips. His hair was just as she remembered, half up in ceremonial braids, the rest flowed down, bringing attention to his broad shoulders and chest. He was standing next to his father, almost equal in height now. She wondered at how he could have grown up into this elf that stood before her, a fearsome warrior with a lithe body, dressed as one of the guard. There was no question of the fairness of his face though it was marred by the severity of his gaze.

There was no humor in his face as his eyes scoured her form. His lips curved upwards into a small smile, seemingly satisfied with what he saw.

Gi _suilon [Greetings] Húrin._

* * *

oo00oo

 **I hope you enjoyed these little glimpses into Hurin and Legolas as they grow! I'm hoping to work in a little fluff soon. I was going to write it into this chapter, but I realized that I would have to write a whole lot more to make the chapter feel complete, and I wanted to post. Here you go! Please review (:**


	8. Chapter 8: I Am Not What I Am (Pt 1)

**A/N: Hey guys! I'll bet you didn't expect a post so soon! Haha (: I know it's been a whole lot of words and not a whole lot of relationship, but we're getting there I promise. This story has kind of taken on a life of its own and as much as I want to rush it, I also really want to do justice to the characters and I feel like it wouldn't be genuine to race through to get to the "good part". Thanks for being patient and I hope you guys have a good time reading! This is the longest chapter so far 0.o. Also, a note about the italics. When followed by parentheses, it's elvish. Otherwise it denotes thoughts or emphasis. Also, I found a few sentences difficult to translate into elvish (there is no word for 'forget', how weird is that?), so those sentences are just in parentheses and italicized.**

 **This one is for WickedGreene13. Thanks for being such a faithful reviewer, I hope that you enjoy it.**

Character List:

Legolas/princeling - son of King Thranduil, name means Greenleaf

Hurin _/aew_ \- daughter of Methedras, singer of the trees, name means strong heart

Lord Elrond - Ruler of Imladris/Rivendell, name means vault of stars

King Thranduil - Ruler of Eryn Galen, name means vigorous spring

Mithrandir/Olorin - One of the 5 Maiar sent by the Ainur, name means grey pilgrim

Glorfindel - Reincarnated elf with great (unknown) powers, name means golden hair

Elladan - son of Elrond, on loan to King Thranduil, name means elf and man

Elrohir - son of Elrond, on loan to King Thranduil, name means elf horse lord

Edegil - horse of Hurin, name means 7 stars

Galanbast - baker to King Thranduil, name means bread maker

* * *

oo00oo

 _In following him, I follow but myself;_  
 _Heaven is my judge, not I for love and duty,_  
 _But seeming so, for my peculiar end:_  
 _For when my outward action doth demonstrate_  
 _The native act and figure of my heart_  
 _In compliment extern, 'tis not long after_  
 _But I will wear my heart upon my sleeve_  
 _For daws to peck at: I am not what I am._

 _-Shakespeare (Othello)_

oo

00

oo

 _1100 of the Third Age_

Legolas looked out with anticipation into the forests surrounding the Halls of the Elvenking.

Húrin is arriving today. He thought. Scouts on the borders of the forest had seen their coming days ago. This brought mixed emotions to his mind as he mused on their last encounter.

Flashback to 41 years ago

 _"I am leaving Legolas and I do not wish to part on the terms as we left them." she nearly whispered._

 _He placed his bow and arrow aside and placed his hand over his right hand on his heart and left on her shoulder. "I know you must do as your heart has swayed you. Though I wish you would train alongside me, I know where your spirit lies."_

 _He had been preparing for this moment, and rehearsed these words to himself, hoping to at least keep their parting amicable. His words burned in his mouth as he released them however, and he knew that Húrin saw the emptiness in them._

 _"Legolas," she faltered, "I cannot stay as you subject your heart to the rending and malice of others. Please, do not allow the villainy of the hour to poison your mind." She looked pointedly at the bow and arrows at his side._

 _Turning away from her and he picked up his bow as though she had not spoken. He did not wish to have this conversation again and the inevitable argument that would ensue after it._

 _She watched as he notched an arrow before she turned, walking away from the archery field._

 _"Guren níniatha n'i lû n'i a-govenitham, Húrin." He whispered in a voice so quiet that even the keen ears of a receding she-elf did not hear._

End flashback

Legolas shook his head. Húrin's words often reverberated in his mind. In the moments when his muscles were so tired that he could barely raise his head, when the rage he felt during the midst of a battle faded into doubt at his actions, he heard them.

Though her refusal to help him still stung, it remained that she had been the closest thing he had ever had to a friend. He remembered their races through the trees, the many _imbas [flower cakes]_ they had pilfered from the kitchens, sharing them over giggles and the innocent talk of childhood.

He hesitantly reached out with his mind, curious to see if he could still feel her presence as she came nearer. He centered himself, once again feeling the borders of his own mind, and gingerly stepped outside the carefully erected walls he had built. Not far outside he could see a flame. It was not the same as the one he had seen many times before. This flame billowed and towered out in the darkness, greater than he remembered, giving off a scourging amount of heat and light. There was a power in this flame that had not been there before.

In wonder and slight fear, he withdrew back into the safety of his own mind, for surely Húrin had grown as much as he felt that he had in the time they were apart.

Not long after he had sensed the presence of her mind, he could hear the soft clopping of hooves on the path. He hurriedly ran outside, placing himself at the junction of the path and the steps of the palace. He heard his father's fluid steps behind him as he came to stand next to him. Elladan and Elrohir appeared a moment later, silent in their arrival.

Legolas fought to keep a scowl from growing. There was no question that the brothers had been invaluable as fellow soldiers and instructors in battle. But Legolas suspected that the twins resented him, looking down on him as an annoyance and a burden. Elrohir could have moments of exceeding tenderness, almost like a father, but Legolas sensed that the affection was borne out of duty and not love. Elladan on the other hand did not work very hard to hide his irritation with Legolas, and for that, Legolas was almost grateful. He would rather that elves were true in their dealings rather than hide behind pretenses and forced civility.

Refocusing his thoughts on the moment, he looked out into the woods. In the distance, he could clearly make out two horses, the two in front held Mithrandir and Glorfindel. A third horse lagged behind slightly, hidden by the two in front.

As they approached, he felt a strange anxiety bubble up in his stomach. He glanced down, pressing his hand against his stomach, confused. He struggled to control the urge to fidget or crane his neck to look around Mithrandir and Glorfindel. The horses were now within four or five full strides, and yet his view of Húrin was still obstructed.

Finally, the wizard and great elf were before him. The last horse in the party continued to close the gap, and stopped on the right of the two stopped horses.

Legolas's face slackened as his lips parted in wonderment.

For before him was no longer the slightly chubby, naïve elfling of his childhood. Growing together from such a young age, he had never really considered that Húrin was indeed a she-elf. They often held hands, and had even shared mindspace, but he had not truly contemplated her in a romantic sense. He now deeply regretted his desire to manipulate her in asking if she loved him all those years ago. Playing at her perceived fancy in order to win her to his side seemed utterly foolish to him now. He had only been a child, but if he could go back, Legolas of now would have slapped Legolas of 41 years ago. He had not realized the gravity of the question he had asked.

 _Do you love me?_

The question burned into his mind a deep sense of regret. What had he been thinking?

Húrin's green eyes were locked on his face, and he found himself strangely entranced by the shape of her face. The way her eyes were silhouetted by silvery lashes, like they were coated in fresh snow held his attention in a way that they never had before. Even atop Edegil, he could tell she had also grown in stature, standing just shy of 2 meters he guessed. Her hair appeared ruffled and bore signs of riding as it lay unkempt on the sides of her face and tumbled halfway down her back. The well worn look of her hair and attire did nothing to diminish the soft silvery glow that came from every patch of skin peeking out. Everything about her emanated a quiet strength, from the angle of her chin to the steely glint in her eyes. It was as though the journey itself had grown, shaped, and molded her, for her countenance now was of one who had seen many things.

The corners of his lips turned up slightly and he gathered his courage to speak into her mind.

 _Gi suilon [Greetings] Húrin._

Her eyes widened for a fraction of a second, and he felt his heart constrict at her hesitation.

Then her eyes softened, as her lips also curved into a small smile.

 _Gi suilon Legolas. My heart is gladdened to see you. And Eru, you are so much taller than I recall!_

His smile widened slightly. _I believe that you also have grown much in our time apart. I hope that we will have the time to learn more of how we have both grown._

Edegil, taking advantage of his distracted rider, nickered softly, pushing forward until his head was against Legolas's chest.

Stroking the horse gently, Legolas cooed, " _Agorel vae mellon roch [You have done well friend horse]_."

Lifting an eyebrow at his son, Thranduil formally greeted the guests turning to each as he addressed them, "Mithrandir, Glorfindel, Húrin. It is with true pleasure that I heard of your return to Eryn Galen. We are honored that you would come and remain with us for a time. We will hear of your journeys and travels at council before the feast tonight."

 _Feast tonight?_ Húrin echoed in Legolas's mind.

A little surprised that she was able to begin speaking so easily into his mind, Legolas took a moment to answer.

 _Húrin, do you truly not know?_

 _Remember? Have I forgotten something of importance?_

Legolas cocked his head slightly, trying to keep the confusion off his face. _It is the day of your begetting._

Húrin's face flushed. Was it really? She had completely forgotten. Counting in her head, she blinked in surprise. It was indeed her 83rd year. While she traveled with Glorfindel, the practice of celebrating her begetting had completely eluded her. As she grew to know him better, she learned that his aversion to begetting ceremonies had much to do with the fact that he had been reincarnated. At that point, what did begetting even mean? It seemed strange for the two wanderers to observe the occasion for Húrin when Glorfindel's was nonexistent.

Recovering, Húrin turned to King Thranduil. "I am honored that you would celebrate the day of my begetting, though it really is not an affair that demands the attention of a king. I do not expect you to set aside such time and extravagance for my sake."

"Alas, I believe the young elf has been on the road too long and has forgotten the civilities of living with a multitude of one's kin." said Elladan with a smile as he strode forward towards Húrin's horse. Lifting his arm, he offered his hand for her to dismount. "Come _aew [little bird]_ , allow me to escort you to your rooms. We have prepared everything for you, though I am not sure that the clothes we have laid out for you will fit."

Húrin took Elladan's hand and slipped down from the saddle. She had nearly forgotten about the twins, and was comforted by their presence. When she was with them, she felt she had nothing to prove. Smiling, she allowed herself to be guided into the palace, chattering away with Elladan and feeling much more at ease.

Legolas watched the whole scene take place through narrowed eyes. Something between rage and anxiety rose up within him as he watched her take his hand, and bestow her smile on Elladan. Still confused at all the emotions that had risen and fallen within him in such a short time, he brushed the feeling aside, determining to examine it later, for his attention was wrenched back to the present by Edegil, insistent on being stroked as he pushed his nose again into Legolas's chest.

He gave the horse a small smile, " _[You remember me much better than your master, my friend]_."

He stroked the horse's mane, pressing their foreheads together before turning to the other two guests. "You may dismount and rest for a time. I will take your horses to the stable. I echo my father in his joy at your company."

"You have grown much, young prince." Mithrandir said as he dismounted, "I look forward to our meeting again soon when I learn more of just how you have grown."

Legolas nodded politely, though the wizard's words that echoed his own words to Húrin unnerved him a little.

Glorfindel crossed his path, saluting him with an arm crossed over his chest and a hand on Legolas's shoulder. " _Mae g'ovannen Legolas [Well met Legolas]_."

Legolas returned the salute, and then began leading all of the horses away to the stable. Behind him, he could hear Elrohir and his father engaging the wizard and great elf in conversation as they walked into the palace. How he had turned into the stable boy in this situation, he did not care to think about.

As he walked to the stables, his thoughts wandered back to Húrin. She had been dressed in clothes that were obviously not of elven make nor the correct size for her. Yet it did not diminish how much she had changed. He wondered how he must look to her. Was she also shocked by the changes that she saw? And more urgently, was she alarmed by them or would she warm to them?

Thinking of her, and sorting through so many confused feelings, many of which he was feeling for the first time, he decided to do something that he had not since she had left.

Leaving the horses in the stables, he took off at a run, launching himself up and lost himself in the rhythms of the trees.

oo00oo

* * *

Elrohir came up behind his brother who was gazing out a window in the palace out into the forest. "What captures your eye _hanar nín [my brother]_?"

Elladan continued to peer out the window with great concentration. He had noticed an elf-like figure darting among the branches, and was studying its pattern of movement.

"How do you think our young prince has been faring as of late?" he asked absently.

Pondering for a time, Elrohir also turned to look out into the forest. "I believe that his anger has not cooled, but lays dormant beneath the surface when he is not in battle. With maturity, his mask has grown thicker and with greater ease he dons it. His true intention has not changed, merely his ability to hide and channel it."

Elladan looked over at Elrohir, "I think you speak truly. Around the palace he has almost become, pleasant. He has shown interest in things other than the slaughter of our enemies for the first time, but I feel it is not genuine. We are watching an elaborate masquerade."

Tilting his head in question and meeting Elladan's gaze, he asked, "Is it merely my opinion that you wanted to hear? With what purpose do you ask about Legolas?"

Elladan turned to look back out into the trees. "I believe that the intention of his heart is truly justice, yet it is tainted by bitterness and utterly without mercy. Húrin sees only mercy and does not understand the consequences of a world bereft of justice. They could benefit from a closer friendship. Perhaps they could even grow to understand the other and recognize the deficiencies within their own minds."

" _Hanar_ , do you intend to play the matchmaker? What of your own heart? You have shown a tenderness to the young Húrin that I have not seen you bestow on any _ellas [elf maiden]_ in Imladris nor any in our time here in Eryn Galen."

Elladan turned again to his brother, placing a hand comfortingly on his shoulder. "Do not concern yourself Elrohir. My heart does not desire Húrin's attentions. I believe her experiences to have left her fragile, perhaps even broken of spirit. It is plain to see that her abilities are formidable and have great potential, but within one so weak of heart as she, it is folly to put hope in them. I do not desire a maiden such as this."

Elrohir, furrowed his brow. "She is but a child still. Do you not think your opinion of her too severe?"

Elladan pursed his lips in displeasure. "Perhaps. But it is enough to know that I am not drawn to her in that way. She is of much greater use taming the heir of Eryn Galen, for so strong a warrior I have not seen in Imladris or this kingdom. Should he learn of mercy and restraint from her, I can see how Legolas may yet be of great aid in the coming dark days."

Elrohir kept silent.

For he had not spoken of Húrin to his brother before this time as he believed Elladan himself to be drawn to her.

In truth, from the very first Elrohir had been intrigued by her.

Her connection with the trees, her desire to be gentle in the midst of such power and sorrow, and the riveting greenness of her eyes all stirred something within him that had long been dormant. Seeing her today, nearly matured and filled with the same quiet strength, he recognized a deeper longing within him. He desired to be in her company, to learn of her heart, and to watch her continue to grow in mind and in power. He did not like the idea of her being sacrificed on the altar of Legolas's maturity, and learning of Elladan's disinterest, he vehemently disagreed with his brother's proposal. She just needed time to grow and Elrohir wanted nothing more than to give it to her.

"I do not know Elladan. I am not so sure that it is our place to meddle."

Elladan snorted and squeezed his brother's shoulder. "You allow worry too easily to take you _hanar_. Leave this affair to me." He finished, and launched out the window into the trees.

He had a prince to find.

oo00oo

* * *

Branches and leaves flew past in an endless tunnel as Legolas soared from branch to branch. His mind was becoming clearer and emotions fading as he allowed the monotony to overtake him. Arms beginning to grow weary, he circled around back to the palace.

Suddenly, he halted. He could hear the rustle of branches about 7 meters to his left. He turned, peering sharply into the canopy. The footsteps sounded like that of an elf. It was much too nimble to be man or orc, and though a spider could manage that level of quiet, there were too few footfalls for the sounds to be from a creature with eight legs. Legolas braced himself none the less, placing his hands on his knives.

As the figure moved closer, he recognized the other elf to be Elladan. Relaxing his grip on his knives, he got up from his crouch and greeted him.

"Hail, Elladan! What business brings you amongst the trees?"

Elladan stopped a branch away, slightly higher than Legolas's so that the prince had to look up at him.

"I could ask you the same question Legolas. What brings you to the tops of the trees when a friend you have known since childhood has returned from traversing Middle Earth?"

Legolas peered up at him defensively, "I do not see how this is of your concern. I will greet her in due time, as I see fit." He paused. "Besides, it seems that you have already taken her welcoming as one of your foremost concerns."

Elladan gave him a sly smile. "That is a possibility. She certainly has grown, both in stature and strength, do you not agree? She is becoming a great lady, fair to look upon, and even fairer to the touch." He winked at Legolas. "Any elf would be wise to consort with her as often as was in his power."

Legolas's eyes narrowed. "I do not believe it to be the business of any _ellon [elf (m.)]_ to be reveling in her fair touch. She has not even come of age and might I remind you, is 900 years your younger."

Changing tactics, Elladan casually looked away from Legolas, examining the bark of the tree with marked interest. "I understand that you parted on disagreeable terms. Something having to do with justice I think." He paused. "I am of the mind that she still will not see battle. A rather selfish notion I think."

Legolas remained cautious and continued to observe Elladan through suspicious eyes. He was behaving so strangely. Elladan was fashioning this conversation for a reason. He surely wanted something of him.

"Do you not think that if she had someone she truly wanted to protect, she could be persuaded to take up arms?" Elladan said, making eye contact with Legolas and holding his gaze.

 _Ah, so he has the same idea I entertained when I was yet a child._ Legolas thought icily.

"You aim to become that person?" Legolas asked incredulously. "Why is that of my concern? Court whomever you may. It is of little profit to me that I know your chosen mate."

He held his face in a hard line and steadied his voice, for inside he was a roiling tempest of emotions. He even felt a small inkling of rage creep into his heart. If he allowed it, it would take over like it had on so many occasions. He bit it back halfheartedly.

Elladan continued to hold his stare. "I am no fool Legolas. I see the way your gaze cannot be torn from her, or how whole conversations seem to pass between your eyes alone. I thought it only fair that you know there is more at stake here than the lovelorn inklings of a princeling."

Turning away, Elladan leapt into the canopy and disappeared from sight.

Legolas held in a scoff. Though he was a great warrior, what Húrin had taught him of moving through the trees made Elladan's exit look clumsy and ill-conceived as he all but stumbled through the branches.

Of greater concern was Elladan's words.

 _What game is he playing at? Does he truly desire Húrin? Or is this a ploy to persuade her to use her abilities for our favor? Lovelorn inklings? I do not even know if we are still friends._ Legolas balled his hands into fists, his knuckles turning white in frustration.

There was only one thing in his mind for certain. He needed to talk to Húrin before Elladan had a chance to spend any more time with her.

oo00oo

* * *

Húrin looked with excitement at all of the furnishings in her guest apartments. While on the road, clothing that could fit her had been difficult to find. Only men, and often heavy set men, were as tall as she had grown to be, and their clothes fit very ill. She had done her best to modify them so that she was not swallowed, however, having fashionable clothing had not been one of her or Glorfindel's major concerns on their adventures. Looking into the wardrobe, she guessed there was at least 5 full sets of clothing of beautiful elven craftsmanship.

Her fingers ran over the rich fabrics greedily, though she was relieved to find at least one set of plain clothes suitable to tree climbing. The others were traditional elven dresses all for different occasions. Her eyes drank in the beauty of them, and she pulled one to her bosom, dancing around the room, imagining what must it feel like to dance in one.

She had not worn a dress in over 40 years, and certainly not since she had begun to mature. She remembered seeing the beautiful _elleth [elf f.]_ twirling under the stars being lead by strong _ellon_. The dresses flaring out from their hips, spinning in a beautiful sea of fabrics. She had faint memories of her time in Lothlorien, where aurelian leaves fluttered down to the rhythm of drums pounding in the trees, helping keep time as curtains of shimmering gold cascaded down between dancing couples.

Bringing herself back to the present, she sighed and placed the dress reluctantly back into the wardrobe. With war brewing in every corner of Middle Earth, it seemed as though such times of peace and frivolity were far off.

Glancing out the window to check the time, she saw a rustling through the trees. Cautiously, she walked to the window and closed her eyes, allowing herself to be immersed in the _glîr_ around her. She knew that with time and practice, she would not have to close her eyes and concentrate as she did now. But when she merely opened herself to the multitude of songs around her without blocking out her sight, she felt overwhelmed as though a cacophony of noise was suddenly crashing in on her.

She first surveilled the minds and melodies of the trees, who spoke to her of the time that she had been absent. Of how creatures that had no love for them had invaded into their midst. They told her of how the newcomers were blocking out the light of the underbrush with webs, cutting them down, leaving huge gouges in the land, and how they stunk of malice and smoke. She sorrowfully listened to their tales, as well as their reports of the elven patrols in response. They showed her visions of elves saving them from the ax, perching in their boughs and purging nests of spiders from them.

They also spoke particularly of one elf who fought with great vigor, and with a viciousness that often left them confused as to whether he was of the darkness or the light. He sought out enemies without mercy, bordering on cruelty. But he traveled with the other Eldar, and though they were wary of him, they had not yet reached a consensus as to whether he was friend or foe.

They called him _Elmeneg maethor_ , warrior of a thousand, for how he fought with the fury of a whole contingent of warriors.

Húrin listened with interest, remarking when appropriate, and sharing her insights on creatures the trees had not seen before. After a time, she said farewell to the trees, knowing that she must prepare for the council that was to be held an hour before dusk.

She quickly bathed, feeling cleaner than she had in a long time and changed into the set of plain elven clothes. The feeling of elven cloth against her skin felt utterly smooth compared to the knits she had been wearing made by human fingers. Refreshed, as though the clean waters of Eryn Galen had washed away much of her anxiety, she combed through her hair, absently fussing with it as she gathered her thoughts for the council.

 _This will not be as the one before._ She thought. She now could parse through _glîr_ in a room full of men with relative ease, determining the number of separate melodies at play. Discerning thought and intention was still difficult for her, but she was able to get general feelings of a single person in a half hour's time. But what really gave her confidence was the knowledge that Glorfindel generally knew the intentions of every living thing of every room he ever walked into. With him behind her, King Thranduil would not be able to coerce her into any situation she did not agree with.

Just as her hand went to open the door, she heard a soft knock on the other side. She slowly opened the door to find the fair face of Eryn Galen's prince.

"Would you care to join me on a raiding venture?" He asked, his smile mischievous, and eyes merry.

Puzzled, she leaned against the doorframe, "What exactly are you proposing?"

He continued to smile warmly, " _Im aphada [follow me]_."

Hesitating, she questioned, "Are we not supposed to be in attendance at the council soon?"

Legolas paused. For a moment, she thought she saw a whisper of something dark flash behind his eyes, but it was so quickly covered by cheer that she was not sure she had seen anything at all.

"It is your day of begetting is it not? You do not need to heed the orders of any on this day."

Stepping forward out of her room slowly, beginning to cautiously warm to his mirth she responded, "Then why should I follow _you_ , my prince?"

He wrinkled his nose, before straightening his stance, "Dispense with the titles please Húrin. Today, I am not a prince, I am a ferryman."

Fully committed to following him now, they began to walk. "And to where does this ferry go?"

"You shall see." He responded while moving forward with obvious care. His movements mirrored a predator, silently stalking some unsuspecting prey. Fluidly he crept through the hallways of the palace, keeping against the walls, and making no noise as his feet glided across the ground.

Húrin did her best to keep up with the same amount of stealth, but her motions were not as practiced. Legolas carried himself like a coiled puma, and the words of the trees about the Elmeneg maethor crept into the back of her mind as she watched him.

Shaking her head, she rid herself of the notion. It cannot be. She thought decidedly.

Finally, Legolas halted at the end of one hall, sniffing the air. He turned back to her with a smile and motioned for her to remain still. Turning back, he shot around the corner so quickly that it appeared as though he vanished into the air before her eyes. Some few moments later he reappeared, his arms full of golden round cakes, delicious smelling steam still rising from them.

Húrin's eyes widened, " _Imbas_?" she whispered reverently.

He shushed her just as she heard a clamor from around the corner.

"Who is there?" Came a shout.

" _Norm! [Run!]_ " Legolas yelled, abandoning stealth.

Panicked, the two young elves flew down the corridor, their strides long and powerful. Behind them an enraged baker waving a wooden spoon followed yelling less than flattering things about Eryn Galen's heir. Turning a corner sharply, Legolas pulled Húrin into a side door which elicited an "Eep!" from the surprised _ellas_. He clamped a hand over her mouth as they remained totally still in the dark, her back pressed against his chest. They strained their ears to listen outside the door. Legolas was very aware of how their position allowed him to feel every curve of her back against his chest. Thankful for the darkness, and the fact that Húrin was facing away from his own face, he tried to control the unwelcome sense of pleasure being so close brought him. Outside, the soft footfalls of an elf approached and then quickly receded into the distance.

They held their breath for a moment after they no longer heard footsteps and then took a deep breath. Legolas released Húrin, who quickly stumbled away from him. In the darkness he heard a small giggle escape from her lips.

Face breaking into a grin, he also laughed which fed her own laughter until the two were doubled over with the lyrical sound.

Taking a deep gasp in, recovering her breath, Húrin turned to Legolas, "This scene seems to have been played before. Is this not almost the exact way that we first met?"

"Aye it is, _mellon nin [my friend]_. I thought it a fitting welcome for your journey back to Eryn Galen. Your return is to be most celebrated." Legolas said as he bowed forward slightly, offering two loaves of the bread.

Húrin greedily snatched the bread, bringing it immediately beneath her nose and inhaling deeply. A very satisfied sigh followed, as Legolas heard the dark room filled with the sounds of munching.

He chuckled, "I believe this is familiar as well. Have you not yet learned to eat like a lady?"

She glowered in his general direction, "Do not speak of which you do not know. I have not dressed like a lady, slept like a lady, or been treated as a lady in nigh on 40 years. It is hardly fair to be expected to eat as one. I am not even to come of age for another 17 years. I shall eat as I please."

"Does it please you to be likened to a _medli [bear]_ after hibernation?" He asked with a serious face.

Aghast, she moved closer to him, straightening in the light of the cracks doorway, "I have a mind, my prince, to let Galanbast know just how much bread you have stolen in the last century."

Legolas, with great drama, brought his hand in front of his mouth and widened his eyes in surprise, "My lady, you would not! For that, they may send me to the dungeons. You would not have me languish my days away in the prisons of such a cruel land. Would you?"

Annoyed that she was being mocked, she stepped even closer so now she was just able to see the outline of his face in the dimness, "Are you making light of my threat Legolas? You do not know just what I can do now that I have spent these past 40 years in Glorfindel's tutelage."

"I believe that was the part of the reason for my interference in your schedule of events for today." He now seemed to speak in earnest and taking her hand, motioned for them both to sit cross-legged across from one another, like they had so many times before. "What have you gained from your time with the great elf? Tell me of your journeys and adventures."

Having finished her food, she swallowed apprehensively. It was easy to fall into the rhythm of jest and teasing with Legolas. However, speaking of real matters brought back the memories of his furious words at her perceived betrayal.

"I do not believe that now is the time. Your father and my traveling companions will be most disappointed at our absence from the council. I do not wish to be a ungracious guest."

Even without seeing his face, Húrin could sense his disapproval at her response.

"My father has no care for where I am or with who I keep my company." He muttered bitterly.

Húrin let the silence linger for a moment before answering softly, "You are fortunate to have a father who desires your presence at all."

Dark brows knit together as he leaned forward.

 _You have never told me much of your ada [father]._ Legolas gently prompted.

 _It is not something that I wish to speak of. You have met him many times. You may devise your own opinion of him._ She replied hotly.

 _It is not truly him I wish to know more of. He is a part of you, and I desire to…_ He paused apprehension taking hold of him. _...understand._

She looked at him, leaning forward in disbelief. _Am I no longer a coward in your eyes?_ His venomous words often still came to her in her moments of uncertainty.

He cringed. _Perhaps it is best if we do not dwell on who we were or who we thought the other to be._

She nodded slowly. _Perhaps it is._

There was another long silence between them as they sat surrounded by darkness and their own thoughts. Finally, Legolas stood.

 _This can wait for another time. While I did not want to subject you to the examinations of the council, I would have you enjoy the feast in your honor. We must go._ He offered her his hand.

Looking up at him, she took his hand and stood.

For a moment they were face to face, with not even a hands breadth between them. They could not clearly see one another's face in the darkness, and yet Húrin felt herself flush slightly at the closeness.

Clearing his throat awkwardly, Legolas opened the door and they walked back out into the lighted hallway.

"Do you need any help finding your way back to your apartments?" Legolas asked.

She shook her head, turning away. "I shall see you soon, Legolas."

He nodded in return, tearing off part of a loaf he had stolen and beginning to chew on it. His eyes narrowed as he stalked away to his own apartments.

 _To what folly will this come to?_ He thought to himself. Steeling his heart and hardening his gaze, he prepared to don his mask once again.

oo00oo

* * *

"So she has learned nothing." growled Thranduil dangerously.

Glorfindel, unphased, merely repeated his words. "Húrin has learned much of what she needs for the coming days."

"And yet she still has not seen battle!" Interjected the king. "You have not held up your end of our deal. She has not even deigned to attend this war council of which she is an integral part."

Elladan stepped forward, "King Thranduil, I ask that Húrin and the young lord be excused, for she has traveled long, and it has been many years since they have conversed with one of their own age."

The whole council stopped to look at Elladan, confused and a bit skeptical. That is except for Elrohir who bit the inside of his cheek to keep from grimacing.

Turning his attention back to Thranduil, "Calm yourself." Glorfindel chided, "It is enough that she, along with Mithrandir and I will accompany Elladan and Elrohir on the scouting party to Amon Lanc." Gesturing towards the sons of Elrond he continued, " I believe it is time to hear from the captains of the guard on this expedition. I am most interested to hear just what has prompted Elladan and Elrohir to view a corner of Middle Earth with such concern and urgency."

"Thank you Glorfindel," Elrohir bowed slightly as Thranduil begrudgingly withdrew and sat back in his chair.

"Elladan and I have scouted these past 4 decades, charting each encroachment by dark creatures." He pulled out a small rolled scroll that looked weathered and worn. Loosening the string that kept the scroll bound, he flattened it out on the central table.

Mithrandir and Glorfindel peered over with interest.

The scroll was a small but detailed map of Eryn Galen. There were a multitude of dots of different colors spread throughout the map, marked with dates.

"This is an account of all sightings or conflicts with dark creatures. They are marked by time and species. Blue for orc, yellow for goblin, red for spiders, and green for trolls. Any unknown creatures are marked with a star. As you can see, there is a distinct clustering of incidents surrounding Amon Lanc." Elrohir pointed at a tight clump of dots around the old elven capital. "It seems to almost be the source of the creatures. Either that or it is the destination of all of these foul beasts."

Elladan moved to stand next to his brother, pointing out other irregularities on the map. "There has also been an alarming increase in incidents in the past decade, particularly near Amon Lanc. It is also of note that we have had surprisingly few attacks near the Hall of the Elvenking. The concentration of the attacks are in the south." His finger floated over the map, noting all the points he had spoken of. "Finally, 5 years ago, on Legolas's first scouting excursion, we found this in the spider's nest that was near the heart of the former elven capital."

He brought out a package of cloth from his pack. He then began gingerly unwrapping something that was concealed in bandages of cloth. Laying it on top of the map, he laid it bare.

Glorfindel, Mithrandir, and Thranduil drew back, each looking deeply shaken.

"By the song of Eru!" Cried Mithrandir, "What devilry has so settled in this land that this has been conjured as from the forest?"

Glorfindel shook his head, looking like he was trying to clear some incessant noise from his ears.

Looking grave, Thranduil continued to stare at the object, "It is clear that action must be taken swiftly."

Moving his gaze up to the twins, he now bore a look of concern, "How is it that you did not show me this artifact when you first requested an expedition to Amon Lanc?"

Elladan met the king's gaze, "In truth, we believed that your insistence that your son be brought would bring ruin upon the scouting mission. Had you known that we were in possession of the hilt of a Morgul blade, you would have ordered us to leave immediately would you not? And to bring Legolas, a mere infant in battle, would have been a grave error. It is only now, that he has shown himself somewhat tamed, that we can confidently bring an attack upon what is surely a wraith or worse."

Thranduil's eyes continued to bore into the twins, as his lips drew to a slim line of displeasure. "Do not hold me as the guilty party when you withheld important truths from me. You cannot claim to know what might have been. As my captains it is your duty to report everything back to me."

Elladan and Elrohir fought the urge to look with annoyance at one another. They were absolutely certain that the king would have insisted on Legolas's competency, for his temper and his ability to see reason when it came to his son, ran short.

Mithrandir interrupted the staring contest between the twins and the king. "We cannot dwell on the decisions we might have made. The hilt of a morgul blade bodes ill for two reasons. The first, as Elladan has already stated, is that there is likely a wraith making his home in Amon Lanc. The second, is that the blade has already evaporated, meaning that it has already been used. Someone has fallen prey to it and has become a slave to whatever lurks in Amon Lanc."

There was an uncomfortable stirring within the council chamber as Mithrandir's words sunk in.

King Thranduil, moving his stare from the twins back to the blade, spoke with a deep gravity and finality in his voice. "You will depart at first light tomorrow. Take as many of the guard as you desire."

The other members of the council nodded somberly, saluted, and then walked out of the council room. There was much to be done before the feast.

oo00oo

* * *

Húrin readjusted her dress for the 20th time. Even though she felt honored and had longed to wear a dress for much of her life, she did not feel at ease in one just yet. Combing through her hair to calm her jumpy nerves, her hand reached for the door handle.

She swung open the door and nearly ran face first into Legolas.

"Oh! Legolas! I cannot conceive of the last time that I have opened a door and you were not standing behind it." She said backing away, again fighting the red that threatened to creep into her cheeks. There was no denying the fairness of his face, or the firmness of his body when she stood so close to him. Dressed in royal attire of an emerald tunic, gilded with gold embroidery, he stood looking a picture of prominence and strength.

"Yes, your escort has arrived to whisk you away to the feast." Legolas announced grandly with a dramatic sweep of his arm.

She laughed, "First a ferryman, and now an escort? I would think that I would deserve an elf with a higher rank to by my escort."

Drawing back, Legolas put on a hurt face. "My lady, you wound me! Who would be an escort worthy of your day of begetting? Shall I go fetch the heir and only son of the king? Perhaps he will be to your liking."

She scrunched up her nose in distaste. "Nay, I do not desire his presence for he cannot even beat a child in a race. I also hear that he is an unrepentant thief who has caused much grief to the kitchens of the palace."

Chuckling lightly, Legolas turned to offer her his arm. "Then I suppose that a more humble escort such as myself will have to do."

She smiled warmly, taking his arm in response. _I suppose you will._

They walked down the hallway, her hand resting on the crook of his elbow, thinking merry thoughts. Sometimes to each other, sometimes to themselves.

The sounds and smells of the feast greeted them long before they rounded the corner and stood before the enormous oaken doors that lead out into the Great Hall. Unconsciously, Húrin tightened her grip on Legolas's elbow as they stood before the doors.

He tilted his head and looked over at her. "Are you anxious?"

She gave a nervous half smile. "I have not been in the presence of so many of my kindred in so long."

She stopped and glanced down at her dress. "I also have never worn such finery, nor have I even worn a dress since I was a child and now…" blushing slightly, she trailed off a bit, realizing her thoughts were completely inappropriate to share with Legolas.

"I feel as though I am being presented." She finished ruefully.

Legolas hedged his words for a moment. He did truly think that she looked radiant in the dress. She had been adorned as a daughter of a great lord, just below royalty. Though she still bore the emerald green of wood elves, her finery was not as obvious as Legolas's. When he had first caught sight of her however, he had not even noticed the state of her dress, for it emphasized all the right features, calling attention to the wearer and not what was worn.

He hesitated not because he would speak untruthfully of her beauty, but because he knew his charm was false. Spurred by Elladan, he now felt obligated to monopolize Húrin's time and attentions if only to keep hers away from the devious twin. Not wishing to hurt her, he found himself treading a fine line. His aim was to play the flirt without their friendship turning to a ballad of broken hearts.

"No one would think ill of you tonight Húrin." He said softly. "Know that you have already found favor with at least one of the Eldar in attendance this night."

Heartened by his words, and yet feeling a notion of unease, she gave him a small brave smile that sent knives into his heart. She felt that his words were true, but he was holding back on something important.

They both turned back to face the doors, Legolas donning his mask, and Húrin gripping his elbow tightly.

With smiles both anxious and false, they strode forward into the banquet hall.

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 **Thanks for reading guys! Please review (: It is like putting hot coals on the fires of writing! I really appreciate it.**


	9. Chapter 8: I am Not What I Am (Pt 2)

**A/N: Hey guys! Welcome to pt. 2 of the last chapter. I hope you enjoy it (: It is (as all of my chapters have been haha) the longest so far! Even without the poem at the beginning (since it's pt. 2 of the chapter, it still falls under the poem from last time). I will however, still remind everyone of characters since our cast only keeps growing. Happy reading!**

 _Dramatis Personae_

Thranduil - a brooding, yet very competent king

Húrin - a sometimes frustratingly indecisive tree singer

Legolas - son of the brooding king, equally touched by sorrow, arguably more competent

Glorfindel - resurrected warrior elf with mysteriously unexplained powers

Elrohir - the level-headed wise twin (son of Elrond)

Elladan - the hot-headed still pretty wise twin (son of Elrond)

Arwen - she-elf known mainly for her beauty and love interest (she is much more, and also a child of Elrond).

Elrond - father of pretty cool kids, Lord of Imladris and has foresight

Elbereth - Lady of the Stars that sometimes is used as an "Oh my gosh" kind of deal.

Luthien - she-elf also mainly known for her beauty and love interest. She is famous to all elves and considered one of the most beautiful EVER.

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The doors swung open as King Thranduil announced their arrival into the great open hall. Húrin curtsied in the fashion of the Woodland Realm and then took a seat that had been set in honor at the head table. The outdoor area was beautifully decorated with twinkling torches gleaming above, alive with scented oil.

Legolas sat on her right, and Glorfindel on her left. The rest of the long table was filled with members of the council, as well as many lords and ladies that she recognized from her youth.

The evening wore on with much flowing wine, which she and Legolas were not yet allowed to partake in, _imbas_ , cheeses, fruit, and carefully prepared vegetables that nearly made Húrin cry in happiness. She was never going on a journey again, if only so that she may eat like this every day. The talk around the table was raucous, and the laughter even more so. The members of the council sat spread between the other elven lords and seldom did they speak to one another. Though Húrin noticed, that often throughout the meal, Legolas would warily eye Elladan, who in turn would smirk back in his general direction.

What she did not notice was Elrohir's occasional glances that would circulate between her, Legolas, and Elladan, ending with a look of displeasure as he looked down at his own plate.

Soon the time in the evening for singing and dancing arrived, and musicians were called to perform traditional works of music. Her stomach still full, to the point of being slightly uncomfortable, Húrin declined the first few dances, though she couldn't help her feet from tapping away at the rhythms.

After a time, Glorfindel, glowing with a healthy vigor from dancing, approached her holding out his hand to dance.

"May I have the pleasure of the first dance of your 83rd year Húrin?" He asked bowing slightly.

Grinning, she nodded, and cheerily took his hand. "The pleasure is mine."

Dancing with Glorfindel was easy. He was a strong and gentle leader, easy to follow, and there was great ease between the two. Often while playing the diplomat, Glorfindel would attend banquets among men. On these occasions Húrin would dance alongside him. It felt like the times she had danced with her father as a child, before her mother had died. Dancing among mortals was wonderful, for in comparison to their dancing companions, they seemed to float along the ground with their grace and elegance. Though her clothes may have been ill-fitting, and her mind tired from straining listening to _glîr_ all day, to glide around the room with Glorfindel filled her heart with warmth. If she was being honest, she also reveled in how every eye, filled with admiration and awe, would turn to them.

As she danced, her eyes turned to look around the room, a. She noticed that many of the other elleth were watching her and Glorfindel. Most had their eyes wide, and some were whispering from behind their hands. Feeling self-conscious, she nearly tripped over her skirt, as she twirled away from her partner. Drawing back in, she flushed, feeling that she must look extremely silly to be causing such whispering and derisive looks. Perhaps she only believed herself to be a capable dancer, having only danced in front of the sons and daughters of men.

 _Do not be disheartened Húrin._ Came the soft, reassuring voice of Glorfindel. _What do you sense? Their disdain has little to do with you._

Trying to keep rhythm, she closed her eyes, allowing Glorfindel to wholly lead her. Reaching for melodies weaving and mixing in the room, she felt completely overwhelmed as complex melodies flooded her senses. She would have faltered again had it not been for Glorfindel's firm arms keeping her in time to the music. Elven mind songs were louder, brighter, and more difficult to parse through than any other race of being she and Glorfindel had kept company with.

Shaking her head miserably, she thought back, _I cannot. I am unused to the song of an elven soul. It is like having your mind 100 times over singing out in my head._

He drew back slightly so that he could observe her face with his next words. _They are jealous._

Húrin crinkled her brow in confusion, which then turned to an expression that showed clear skepticism.

 _They find me attractive, and do not enjoy watching you dance with me. Though I can feel in their minds that they have already conjured an idea of me from our scrolls and books of history. Glorfindel the Balrog Slayer. They do not truly wish to know me._ He continued. _You are doing me a small favor by dancing with me this night. I would not want to entertain their fancies and do not wish to dance with them._

Regaining her composure, she reexamined the faces that were pointed towards her and Glorfindel. With a start, she realized that he was right. Their veiled sneers changed the moment they looked at him. Their eyes hungrily raked over Glorfindel's form, longing plain in their faces.

Looking back at her dance partner she found herself studying him in a different way. *She had always found that he was tall and handsome; his hair of shining gold, his face fair and young and fearless and full of joy. Though she believed his greatest feature was that his eyes were bright and clean, and his voice like music, which they knew naught of.

Glancing again at his face she saw that on his brow set wisdom, and from experience she knew in his hand was the strength to carry it out.

Mulling these observations over, she found that she did find him desirable in many ways, but he seemed too great, too mature, and too lordly for her to ever even entertain the idea of a romance. She found all the aforementioned features made him a noble leader, just as when he was dancing, easy to follow and respect. The word _ada [father]_ also came to mind. He caught her examining him, raising a golden brow in question.

She quickly glanced away, unable to keep the pink in her cheeks from rising. That seemed to be happening quite a lot lately. Wishing to draw his attention quickly away from her, she hurriedly projected a thought in his direction.

 _Do you really not wish to entertain any of their attentions Glorfindel? Surely there is someone whom you find a desirable partner._

He grimaced. _It is not for want of a mate that I have come back to walk Middle Earth. I have a clear purpose, a mission to complete while my feet are set upon the earth of this land. Any distractions are a wavering in discipline. It would be like Mithrandir pursuing another for the purposes of a wedded union._

Húrin recoiled at the thought, the edges of her lips turning down in distaste. It was not that Mithrandir did not have good qualities, but to imagine him flirting and exchanging fancies with another was just not something that she could envision.

Glorfindel chuckled quietly at her face. _Just because I happen to appear younger does not mean that my eligibility is any more than his. I am likewise sent by the Maiar to bring light to the ever growing shadow of Sauron._

Genuinely intrigued in the query she had initially just began to distract him, she pushed. _But he is one of the Istari is he not? Though you have come back from the land beyond death, you are remade as an elf. Does not the elven heart beat in your chest differently than that of the Istari? I have been told that when one of our kind feels drawn to another, it is potent and inescapable. My father would liken it to a land in which a volcano has erupted. It is disruptive on every level of life and nothing is the same after. Did not Luthien even give up immortality to be with Beren for a short hundred years?_

Hesitation passed over Glorfindel for a moment, staring past Húrin as he thought on this. _I regret to say that I have never felt a force that ran so strong within me._ He paused, words careful. _I do not know how I would respond to such a sensation. But by the great lady Varda, I hope to still complete the task that I was given in good faith. What I mean to tell you Húrin is that it is not my aim to woo any ellas [elf maidens]._

She nodded slowly, as she did not quite know what to make of romantic love herself, she didn't really know how to comment on Glorfindel's words. One thing did bother her enough to continue her line of questioning.

 _Do you believe love to be a waste of time?_ She asked apprehensively.

Alarm clear in his face, Glorfindel frowned deeply. _No Húrin, I did not mean in any way to make little of love. Love will have a great part to play in the defeat of evil. It always has and it always will. I have a great love for many. For Mithrandir, Lord Elrond, even for the time that you have come into my charge, I have come to love you as a daughter. We are oft able to find courage we never knew we had, nurture great patience, and grow in wisdom under the watchful eye of love. There is great merit in love._

Somewhat satisfied with his words, she ceased conversing in her mind and threw herself completely into the dance. She and Glorfindel floated and spun about the room, practiced steps taking flight as the music brought lightness to their feet.

As they twirled and flew, Húrin found herself giving way to sensation and sound. She found that she greatly enjoyed the feeling of a full dress spinning about her waist as it followed her movements. The music seemed to envelop the night as her arms and feet moved of their own accord. She almost completely lost herself when Glorfindel stopped moving, and she realized the music being played by the elves had ceased.

They curtsied and bowed to one another respectively and she began to walk back to her seat at the table, leaving Glorfindel at the mercy of many unwanted dance partners. She chuckled lightly to herself, for she had often seen him swarmed by human maidens, swooning over his tall frame and fair face, but he was very skilled in turning their affections away gently. In a sea of his own kindred however, he seemed to be faltering, and to the see the wise old elf struggle so, was quite satisfying for Húrin.

 _Perhaps it is because elf maidens are more subtle and calculated in their approach._ She mused to herself as she walked.

"Excuse me Húrin, but I do not think it appropriate for the guest of honor at a feast to sit out on any more of the dances."

She turned to see Elladan extending his hand to her. Startled but not displeased, she took his hand, excited to dance without so many eyes directed towards her. But before they had reached the dance floor again, Legolas suddenly seemed to appear before them, blocking them from the dance floor.

"I find it appalling that you have not yet graced your escort with a dance." Legolas stated with merriment dancing in his eyes, as he bowed and extended his hand.

Húrin noticed that he had placed himself so that his back was to Elladan as though he were not there at all.

Taken aback by his rudeness to Elladan, she anxiously looked back at Elladan, and then at Legolas.

"I already have a partner for this dance, though I would consider it an honor to dance with you in the next." She replied, apologizing with her eyes.

"I see." said Legolas as he straightened, the humor fading from his face. He turned his back to Húrin so that he was facing Elladan. He paused, giving the other elf a scathing glance. Elladan continued to smirk back at the prince, poorly veiled mischief and satisfaction shining in his eyes.

Closing the distance between them, Legolas stopped so that their shoulders were just brushing against one another. Leaning in, he growled in a low voice.

"You will not harm her. In heart or in body."

Taking his shoulder in a kind, playful way, Elladan continued to smirk, "Ah, my prince, do not worry, I will endeavour to make sure that we both have the most innocent of times."

He then lowered his voice even farther, and placed his lips near the prince's ear. "Though, if you care for her, say the word and this dance is yours."

Pulling back, Legolas gave Elladan his most withering gaze and violently brushed past him, shaking off Elladan's hand from his shoulder.

Smiling broadly, Elladan again offered his hand to Húrin. "I apologize for the delay, the prince merely does not like to wait."

Narrowing her eyes, Húrin cautiously took Elladan's hand, sure that there was definitely more going on than the elf lord's son was willing to say.

Slightly apprehensive as Elladan took her hand and placed his other about her waist, she set her feet, and waited for the music to begin.

The dance was mid-tempo, and she soon found that Elladan, while not quite as smooth as Glorfindel, was an excellent dancer as well. They swayed and spun in perfect time, and soon her apprehension began to ebb away.

"You dance wonderfully Húrin." Elladan noted, "You danced while you were in the company of men?"

"Glorfindel and I have been in the courts of many kings, and there is often dancing. I was fortunate enough to have Glorfindel as a teacher and dance partner. He excels at the art, and I have done my best to keep pace with him."

Elladan chuckled. "I am sorry to say that he has a few millenia experience more than I do in dancing. I hope that you do not mind a slightly more clumsy partner."

"Oh no!" She protested. "I have danced in the company of men and you are greatly preferable to their disjointed movements."

"Well, I am glad that I am preferable to those of the race of men." He said with a grimace. "Perhaps I will have merely work harder to show you something that you have not seen before." He ended with a grin.

She smiled into their movement. "I would like that."

He moved one hand to her upper back, just where the shoulder blade rested. With the other, he took her hand and lead her in the fashion of a waltz, arms sure and unmoving, feet bouncing from heel to toe at a moment's notice. She adapted at once, lilting up and down at the slightest encouragement from him.

"Hmm, so I see that you are familiar with this dance style." He noted.

She nodded in return, "Dancing is something that I have always enjoyed learning. I think it is because I so love music and have a great fondness for variety of expression."

He gracefully inclined his head and immediately switched into a similarly styled dance but with an extra reverse turn on the 3rd count. She quickly adjust her feet to match. His brow furrowed, truly determined now to prove his lightness of feet, and agility of mind. He moved from one style to another, she seamlessly flowing into his changes. The changes became faster and faster, as his face turned from one of amusement to one of frustration.

To any onlookers, the couple looked confused, a little disjointed, and yet somehow still full of grace. One style would go for no more than a few seconds before Elladan would change to another, and the product left the dancers around them wondering if they were either deaf or just unsure of how to properly finish a song.

Mercifully, the dancing came to an end and though Húrin had enjoyed the challenge of the dance, she admitted to being slightly confused by his stark determination to throw her off balance.

Breathing a little heavily at the exertion, Elladan again bowed. "I must admit that I am quite impressed by your fleetness of foot my lady. Perhaps you could grace us with your talents on the context of the sparring ground." He looked up at her with a look of eager innocence at his suggestion.

Perplexed, she curtsied, keeping her eyes on his face, searching for his intentions. "Perhaps one day Elladan. I would greatly enjoy watching your skill that I have heard so much about." She answered carefully.

He eyes grew smaller by the tiniest amount as he gave Húrin a smile that made her skin crawl. "Until then Húrin."

Elladan turned to depart, biting back his frown at Húrin's frustratingly diplomatic answer.

For a moment Húrin merely watched him go, now having the feeling that that dance had been more than a birthday courtesy.

Shaking off the chill that the dance had left her with. Her eyes scanned the room for Legolas, for the next dance belonged to him, and he had seemed perturbed by having to wait. She did not want anything to rend asunder their slowly rekindling friendship.

A subtle color crept into her cheeks as she thought back to their hushed conversation in a darkened closet of the palace. Since she had returned, he occupied far too much space in her mind. She couldn't help but admire how the years had turned her childhood friend into this tall, fair, yet fearsome member of the guard. There was no denying how pleasing he had turned to her eye. As they were redefining their friendship, some intrigue colored this new growing perception of him.

She never knew quite what to expect from the Prince of Mirkwood, though they had spent a third of their lives together, the death of his mother had changed him irrevocably. Between that and their time apart, it was as though she were rediscovering a lost treasure.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, a little voice kept reminding her that this treasure was also extremely volatile. What they had even as friends hung by a thread.

She quickly spotted him, also bowing to another _ellas_ laughing and smiling as they concluded their post dancing pleasantries. The corners of her mouth fell a bit as she realized the _ellas_ seemed to be enjoying herself, being the source of his mirth. She stood a few centimeters taller than Húrin and was gilded in rich purple fabrics that hugged her waist, draping over her in a way that brought attention to her striking figure, a slim waist accentuating her gentle curves.

Walking up to the pair, Húrin turned to Legolas. "I do believe that my next dance belongs to my long suffering escort."

Legolas's eyes moved to her face, and for a fleeting moment she thought she saw an intensity flick through them. But then, that easy smile and playfulness returned.

"You have kept me waiting long enough, _mellon nin_. But first, allow me to introduce Arwen Undomiel, sister to Elladan and Elrohir, daughter of Lord Elrond."

Húrin turned to look at the other _ellas_ in earnest. Much to her chagrin, she realized the _ellas_ was even more lovely than she had assessed from a distance. Raven hair that was as dark as night framed the soft lines of her face. Though dark, the hair seemed to shimmer in its movement as though it hid the light of the stars within. She was mesmerized by its subtle movements and almost reached out to touch it, just to make sure it was truly real. The curve of her body lead up to an elegant neck on which a piercing glance sat settled above high cheekbones.

Drawing in a breath, Húrin involuntarily breathed out, "Elbereth…Luthien has come amongst us."

Arwen, shifted uncomfortably and gave a small smile. "I thank you Húrin, but I am as Legolas has said. I believe that I am the one who is truly honored to meet you. I have heard much of you from my father."

Realizing that she had spoken out loud, the subtle blush that had been gathering in Húrin's cheek grew to a bright red as her hand flew up to her mouth. "Oh! I am so sorry Lady Arwen, I did not mean to cause you any discomfort."

Thankfully, the music began and Legolas took advantage of the moment to again offer his hand to Húrin.

Dismissing herself, Arwen turned to offer Húrin a quick parting. "I shall let you enjoy this dance Húrin, but I look forward to speaking with you more in due time."

Still slightly dazed by her beauty, Húrin nodded slowly, not sure that she could keep up a conversation with someone as stunningly fair as Arwen.

Chuckling, Legolas continued to hold his hand out. "Shall we dance? Or am I to believe that you find Lady Arwen a fairer dance partner than I?"

Feeling as though she could not blush any redder, Húrin indignantly turned up her chin, setting her jaw and took his hand. "Do not be silly, I am merely returning your earlier sentiment to dance."

As they took their positions, Húrin suddenly became very aware of his hand as it moved towards her waist. and the closeness of their bodies. Dancing never seemed to be an intimate act to her, switching partners was a natural part of the practice. But now she felt that she could not tear her mind away from where his hands were on her. Electricity seemed to race from his fingertips into her body, sending her heart beating faster than when she was flying through the trees.

She avoided his gaze, not wishing to betray her discomfort with something as familiar as dancing.

Had she looked up, she would have seen an easy grace masking a hidden conflict.

Straining to get her heart under control, she turned to him, signalling that she was ready to begin moving to the rhythm.

His face changing to one of nonchalance, he began to lead them in the melody of the music. "How did you find your previous dance partner? I did not have the freedom to see much of your dancing, but it did not look…" he paused, "traditional."

"I do not know what happened. I believe I may have insulted Elladan in comparing his dancing with that of the race of men. Perhaps he had something to prove?" She postulated with a grimace.

Legolas gave a hearty laugh, and for the first time since she had returned, she saw a whole hearted smile with no pretense take his lips. "Elladan is certainly one for flair. I imagine you wounded his pride very much Húrin. Serves him right."

"How does this serve him what he deserves?" Húrin asked, tilting her head.

Legolas shook his head. "It does not matter. Come, let us show Elladan some flair of our own."

Húrin half-heartedly grinned and nodded in response. For the last time she had encouraged an elf to dance elaborately, she had ended up dancing the tango to a slow song.

Obliging despite her lack of enthusiasm, he swirled her and began moving his feet more quickly, weaving in and out of her spins, catching her, propelling her forward, and twirling around her, adding to her movements. He seemed to anticipate her every move, lifting her into her jumps, and effortlessly guiding her, a natural turn here, a reverse turn there.

As she danced, every turn met with guiding gentle hands, her apprehension melted. She began to lose herself to the dance, more so than even with Glorfindel who had been her dance partner of 40 years. Every lean, every step, Legolas seemed to already instinctively know and move to compliment her motion. They were one fluid, dazzling force. Her body continued to tingle at the electricity in his fingertips, every touch, every lift, and small caress of the small of her back sent more energy to her steps. She did not think about moving anymore, she just was. The other swirling couples faded away, it was just her and Legolas, smiling, moving, and revolving as one. It reminded her of how the trees knew her song so well that they would move to accommodate her movements so that she felt as though she were flying.

Somehow the exhilaration was even greater when it was with another person, as opposed to the ancient sentient minds of the trees. She found herself staring more and more into Legolas's eyes, as she focused less and less on her limbs which moved of their volition. They were a startling gray, bright and keen, shattering her train of coherent thought every moment she looked into them. Had they always been that way? Surely they had. Perhaps she had never looked into them the way she did now.

And then like a bucket of cold water, a hand grabbed her shoulder pulling her out of the world she had constructed with Legolas.

About to shoot a vicious look at the offending party, she heard a harsh whisper with the voice of Glorfindel. "Húrin! Stop singing, you are causing creatures of the night to stir."

 _Singing? I had not been…._ She thought, as she opened her mouth to say just that, when she realized it was already open and indeed, her body was almost vibrating with the notes that hung in the air. Astonished, she quickly snapped her mouth shut and looked around.

Every eye was on her and Legolas, some in horror and others in wonder, but they all bore the same mark of disbelief.

As one coming out a drunken stupor, confusion gripped her as she slowly turned to Legolas, who also had wide eyes.

 _Why is everyone staring?_ She pleaded both with her mind and in her eyes.

Legolas did not open his mouth to answer, merely pointing up into the boughs of the trees.

Turning her gaze to follow his finger, her mouth fell agape once again.

She had arrived in the spring, and buds were just beginning to peak out from under leaf. Now, as she looked up, she saw that there was a veritable cloud of flowers all in differing shades of pink, bursting with color and life above them. The trees had not only blossomed, but also woven themselves together into a kind of braid, creating a halo of the flowers high above the banquet hall. Amongst the colored buds of the trees, vines draped down that seemed to have sprung out of nowhere. They wove in and out of the braid, shining in the moonlight. The silvery leaves seemed to glow, like tiny stars adding to the number already in the night sky.

Turning to look at Glorfindel, she reached out with her mind. _Did I do that?_

He looked stern, and more concerned than she thought the situation warranted. _You and Legolas. You were both singing, and as you sang, you created. The very trees still echo with the strength of the song you have sung into them._

Words seemed to fail her, as she tried to wrap her mind around what just happened, and what it could possibly mean. She turned to Legolas again, who looked equally at a loss.

Glorfindel gave a pointed look at Lord Elrond, and then moved forward to grab Húrin and Legolas by the arm, ushering them away.

Húrin looked back to see Lord Elrond move to the middle of the dance floor, "We seem to have been given a great gift for the begetting of Húrin. In order to honor that gift, Arwen will…."

The voices faded as Glorfindel lead her and Legolas away, back into the Halls of the Elven King. Húrin looked over at Legolas, who looked about the same as she felt, dazed and more than a little confused.

They turned a corner and reached what she could only guess were Glorfindel's apartments. As soon as they were inside the room, Glorfindel shut the door tightly and whirled around to face them.

"Think carefully to whom you speak to before you answer." Demanded Glorfindel sharply. Húrin withered underneath his gaze, she had seen this side of Glorfindel before, right before he ripped a king or diplomat to shreds with truths and the sharp edge of wisdom.

"Húrin, Legolas, when did you begin courting, and why have you kept this matter hidden from me?"

oo00oo

From the moment that Legolas had seen Elladan approach Húrin, he had not been able to quell a fury building in his blood. After his failed attempt to sequester her away from Elladan, he watched the couple with growing scrutiny over Arwen's shoulder.

He realized that concern marked his face more than he had meant it to when Arwen commented, "Mmm, not many who dance with me stare at another _ellas_ with such fervor. Are you drawn to someone here?"

Caught without a real excuse prepared, his mind churned, while he struggled to keep his face impassive and calm, "My apologies Lady Arwen, I was merely admiring your brother's vast knowledge of dance..." His words trailed off as he realized upon continued study of Elladan, that there was not much admirable to be remarked upon in his quickened steps.

Arwen raised a dark brow, "Is that so? For I have kept an eye on his dancing as well and my first feeling was one of concern, not admiration." She stopped, and gave a small knowing smile. "Besides, I know from Elrohir that you are not one to admire anything Elladan does."

Wincing at being caught again, Legolas cursed inwardly as his cheeks flushed against his will. "I must apologize again Lady Arwen. You are correct. I am observing another."

"Is it Elladan's partner? Your eyes have not parted from them since we have begun dancing."

Feeling quite annoyed at the sharpness of Arwen's eyes, he fumbled in his mind to come up with a plausible reason for his interest. "It is the she-elf Húrin. She spent nearly 30 years here in Eryn Galen when we were both children."

"Húrin." Arwen repeated, as though she were trying to recall where she had heard the name before, "Is she not the young tree-singer who was with your mother in her passing?"

Drawing his lips into a hard line, Legolas nodded.

"Of what interest is she to you?"

He hesitated. He was watching Húrin, yes, but why again? He told himself that he was concerned Elladan would use her for his own purposes. But in truth, he had not been against the idea in the first, rather, he had actually come up with the same idea many years ago. If it pushed Húrin to help track down the orcs that killed his mother, than should he not encourage this? Why did he care what happened to her heart? He had long sworn off their friendship when she had left, breaking his heart when she refused to help him seek justice for his mother. It had been due to curiosity, and Elladan's ambitions that he had feigned friendliness for the past day. Not that he hadn't enjoyed himself….

Arwen's hand waving in front of his face brought him back to the moment, "Legolas? _Gi suilon [hello]?_ "

Blinking, Legolas struggled to regain his composure, for he still didn't know how to answer the question.

After a moment filled with only the song of the musicians, Arwen asked quietly, "You are drawn to Húrin, are you not?"

Legolas's gaze flicked back to her face, his mouth already open to object.

Chuckling under her breath, Arwen lifted a hand, and shook her head, "Legolas, you are so easily embarrassed! Do you not often talk about your fancies and interests with your friends? You are young. Surely there are many interests that pass in and out of your mind."

"I…" he faltered as he came to the realization that he didn't really have any friends to speak of. The closest thing he had to friends were his sparring partners, Elladan and Elrohir. And he knew with certainty he could not speak to them about anything like this.

At his hesitance, Arwen gave him a look of pity that made his stomach churn in disgust. "Do you not have anyone with whom you speak freely?"

Feeling incredibly vulnerable, Legolas fought his frustration as he realized his silence was speaking as much as his words.

"Not many have attended I or my father since my mother's death. I believe they are…" he paused, not willing to concede, "afraid."

Before Arwen could comment, he quickly added with an upturned chin, "And I have no time and no need, I spend my time training and gleaning knowledge that keep our borders safe."

The sadness in Arwen's face only grew and softened. Taking a slender hand off of Legolas's shoulder, she gently fingered one of his ceremonial braids before tucking it behind his ear. "I know what it is to live in a world where people place you in a glass cage. I am merely fortunate to have my parents and brothers to attend their ears when I have need."

Legolas scoffed, "What do you know of cages and heartache? Your family is full, your family is happy. You cannot possibly know how it feels to be alone."

"I do not know it on the same level that you do, but my father keeps me hidden in many other ways." Her eyes flickered between Legolas's face and where her father stood observing the dancing, as though she were considering her next words to be secret. "As you know, my father has the gift of foresight. When I was young, he saw that I am tied to this land, not by long life, but by the life of a mortal man. He is terrified that I should see and fall in love with a man, giving up my immortality. Because of this, he keeps me sequestered away from the world. I am not allowed to travel without many many escorts, or even travel beyond our borders."

Legolas allowed a measure of music to pass their ears before he responded. "To be unable to travel on one's own or be held in constant fear of an unknown future is indeed a heavy burden, but I do not see how you are truly alone."

"That is merely the beginning!" She hissed in a frustrated voice that shocked him. "He the has introduced me to more suitors than I can count, and due to my likeness to Luthien, I cannot appear anywhere without a myriad of them vying for my attentions! It is maddening, Legolas!" Arwen's eyes were beginning to widen, and throughout her speech, she was getting louder and more animated.

Taking a deep breath, and allowing the silence between them to ruminate for a time, she calmed down. "I do not mean to complain, but I have imposed what you may call, a 'self-exile' on myself. I do not make friends freely either. These past years without my brothers have proved more difficult than I expected."

Sensing the truth in her words, and the depth of her heart, Legolas, softened his darkened brow, feeling the need for his mask fading.

"Do fancies of any of these _ellon_ pass in and out of your mind?" He asked lightly, glancing down at her with a smirk.

Arwen's face went from a look of surprise, to a mock look of disdain. "Perhaps." She said smiling at Legolas's attempt to lighten the mood. "Though you would not know of any of the _ellon_. They all reside in either Imladris or Lorien."

"And you know for certain that all of them were only passing intrigues?" Legolas questioned, trying to sound lighthearted. Though he could not help but be deeply invested in her answer. How was one to know what was intrigue and what was more?

Arwen nodded emphatically, picking up on the seriousness of his question. "I know it with more certainty than I know the sun shall rise again in the east. There will be one who I will be drawn to, like the ocean to the moon. I know not if it is a human like my _ada_ foresees. In all truth, I am frightened of a future like that, to be separated from my family is unthinkable to me. But I have seen love in the way that my father looks at my mother, and hear it in their very voices. Someday...I want that."

Allowing his facade of confidence to fall a little more, Legolas looked at Arwen with eyes filled with confusion, "How am I to know if it is a fancy or a matter of love? Or even friendship?"

Arwen sighed, "I have never felt it myself, though I am quite certain that you won't be able to ignore it. Your mind, I've heard, shall be filled with it."

"You also cannot stop thinking of those that you have a strong dislike of." Legolas pointed out.

"True. But the line between love and hate is thinner than you may realize. Strong feelings are easily turned from love to hate if you care deeply for someone who you believe has spurned you. It is the very fact that you still care for them that you are able to hold onto feelings of hate, even to the point of being irrational."

Legolas's face grew skeptical, "And how is it that you know this?"

A lighthearted laugh escaped Arwen's lips, "Legolas, any who have had a brother or sister know this all too well. There are moments where I wish my glare could burn Elladan or Elrohir up, leaving nothing but ash. And then there are moments where I would have them exalted and praised by every creature that draws breath. The vein that runs true is that I care deeply for them. I love them no less in the first situation than the second."

Legolas considered this. There were many times he resented being the only son of the Elven King, and now here was yet another experience that he had missed out on.

"I would think that perhaps you think of Húrin as a sister, considering you have spent much of your youth with her." Arwen continued, and then added with a sly smile, "Though from your inability to look away from her, I surmise that your intentions toward her are not brotherly in nature."

The cheer in Legolas's face faded. He did not want to discuss his own confusion with Arwen. There were a lot of thoughts he needed to sort out for himself before even considering speaking of it to another.

Sensing that she had gone too far, Arwen gave a small sigh, "I have heard that it can take hundreds of years for an elf to really know if he or she is drawn to another. Do not worry, there will be time for you to settle your mind."

Acknowledging her answer, he allowed the song that had been the background to their conversation to become all of the sound in the space between them. It ended shortly, and he bowed to Arwen as she curtsied in the fashion of the elves of Imladris.

"I thank you for the honor of this dance, and also for allowing me to speak plainly. It has been a great deal of time since I have been able to do so." Legolas said earnestly.

"The honor is mine." Arwen responded, "It has been a joy to get to know one who has spent long with my brothers."

Legolas cringed a little inwardly at that. He was almost sure that she did not receive many favorable remarks from Elladan about him.

"It has also been quite a pleasure to dance with one so fair, and not be the object of proposal." Arwen added with a look of mischief. She was finding it very easy and rather enjoyable to unsettle Eryn Galen's prince.

Taken aback, Legolas began to sputter, which was met by another hearty laugh from Arwen.

"Do not look so shocked Legolas. Do not pretend that you have not seen the many eyes on you tonight. For though some look because you are of high status, I believe that many just wish to gaze upon your face." She teased.

Genuinely startled, Legolas began to glance about the room, and true to Arwen's words, there were many _ellas_ who averted their eyes when his eyes landed upon them. Even more unsettling, there were several who did not look away, continuing to stare unabashedly.

"How can this be?! I have spoken to perhaps only one or two _ellas_ for more than a moment. I confess to always being at the sparring grounds or libraries, and as I said before, few approach my father and I since the passing of my _nanneth_." Legolas said in concerned bewilderment.

Arwen fought the urge to roll her eyes, "Elbereth Legolas! You are indeed ridiculous. You cannot have overlooked that you are fair to look upon, even amongst a people who are all considered pleasing to the eye. The fact that you are withdrawn can only add to the image of a brooding warrior."

Legolas arched a dark brow, "Brooding warrior?"

"Come now, you really cannot be this naive. Even I, in Imladris, have heard tell of how strong you are in arms for your age." Arwen did not also mention that along with the tales of strength came the whisperings of bloodlust and a frenzy that would terrify anyone of sense. Truthfully, she was quite glad that she had found Legolas to be quite different than she had imagined. Though he had appeared, stiff, cold, and distant, it was obvious to her that it was merely a front and great anger and confusion lay churning beneath the surface.

In short, he was lost. And from what she could tell, there was no one willing to guide him.

As she watched him gaze with new eyes around the room, she struggled to hold in her giggles behind her hand.

Both elves were quite distracted when Húrin approached from the side, wearing a look of forced civility.

"I do believe that my next dance belongs to my long suffering escort." she said with a small bow.

Arwen blinked in surprise at the _ellas_ 's voice, for it was as though song lived within each syllable that she spoke. So this is what a tree singer sounded like. Her eyes flicked to Legolas's face, and she saw a small fire spring to his eyes that was quickly covered.

"You have kept me waiting long enough, _mellon nin_. But first, allow me to introduce Arwen Undomiel, sister to Elladan and Elrohir, daughter of Lord Elrond." Legolas gestured to her, and Arwen curtsied.

She felt Húrin's eyes move over her and she steadied herself so she did not flinch away under the scrutiny of her gaze.

"Elbereth…Luthien has come amongst us."

Arwen grimaced inwardly, cursing not for the first time her likeness to the old she-elf of legend.

"I thank you Húrin, but I am as Legolas has said. I believe that I am the one who is truly honored to meet you. I have heard much of you from my father."

"Oh! I am so sorry Lady Arwen, I did not mean to cause you any discomfort."

It seemed that Húrin was as easily flustered as Legolas, Arwen thought. Perhaps it was something that came from being so new in the world.

The music began and Legolas offered his hand to Húrin. Arwen kept moving her gaze between the two elves. They were both walking on eggshells around the other, and it was as frustrating and as it was intriguing to watch.

Dismissing herself, Arwen turned to offer Húrin a quick parting. "I shall let you enjoy this dance Húrin, but I look forward to speaking with you more in due time."

Arwen walked away to the side of the dance floor to stand next to her father, watching the two begin to dance.

"What did you think of the young prince of Eryn Galen?" inquired her father, following her eyes to the dancing couple.

"He is young, as you said. Volatile, but also so alone _ada_. Is there not more that we can do for him?"

"I will speak to Elladan and Elrohir, perhaps they can be persuaded to reevaluated their feelings toward the youngling."

Arwen snorted in scorn, " _Ada_ , you will have better fortune asking Sauron to surrender than to move Elladan once he has made his mind up about something."

Elrond remained unperturbed, "I will think on what can be done."

They continued to keep their attention on Húrin and Legolas as they began to hear a soft music coming not from the musicians, but from the two dancers.

Legolas looked over at Húrin with new thoughts all buzzing in his mind. It had not even been a day since her return, and he was still having trouble thinking of her as the child that he once spent his days with. Looking at her now, all he could see was a nearly mature she-elf, glowing with a soft light that warmly invited him in.

Curiosity getting the best of him, he tried to portray marked indifference as he asked, "How did you find your previous dance partner? I did not have the freedom to see much of your dancing, but it did not look…" he paused, looking for the right word, "traditional."

Húrin's face immediately soured. "I do not know what happened. I believe I may have insulted Elladan in comparing his dancing with that of the race of men. Perhaps he had something to prove?" She finished, looking thoughtful.

Relief washed over Legolas, much more than he was expecting, and he didn't realize just how tense he had been about her impression of Elladan until that moment. A real laugh, devoid of any pretense bubbled up from his stomach and burst from his mouth as he imagined Elladan's proud face turning to one of shock and indignation at being compared to a man.

"Elladan is certainly one for flair. I imagine you wounded his pride very much Húrin. Serves him right."

Húrin looked at him with evident confusion. "How does this serve him what he deserves?"

Legolas shook his head, unwilling to divulge anything that had gone on earlier that day. "It does not matter. Come, let us show Elladan some flair of our own."

Something grabbed hold of him as he whirled around the room with Húrin. She looked a bit apprehensive at his enthusiasm, but he would not bring himself to feel less enthralled. Instead of leading her with more fervor, he allowed her movements to guide him, not wishing to repeat her last experience. He tuned into her every shift and change of balance, almost like he was sparring against an opponent, anticipating her steps with near perfect accuracy. But instead of countering her, he encouraged the motion, adding to her sweeps, jumps, and turns.

He felt as her trepidation fell away and she truly began to move with the music.

It was wondrous to watch.

Everything about her was in perfect harmony with the music. The ground itself seemed to shift to bring even greater grace to her motions. Just as when she flew through the trees, he found himself mesmerized by the fluidity of her body in its surroundings.

The coldness that he felt towards her began to melt away as his own dance synced with hers. He began to wonder just how much of his acting had truly been acting in their interactions earlier that day. He thought of how her body had felt pressed up against his chest, when they were conversing in the darkened closet of the palace. The conversation also brought to mind that she was the only one with whom he shared real conversation.

A very small voice in the back of his head whispered warning. He could not care for this _ellas_ who had broken his heart when she refused to help him avenge his mother. She had betrayed him in every way that mattered.

However, the music and the dazzling spectacle before his eyes made it easy for him to ignore the voice. For now.

Suddenly, Húrin was torn from his grasp, and he had to reset his feet to keep from falling over at the change in weight.

Before he had a chance to express any indignation, a petal slowly floated down before his eyes, prompting him to look up.

His lips parted, and a small breath escaped as he took in the scene in wonder.

A crown of flowers, probably 8 meters in diameter had appeared out of nowhere and seemed to float above the dance floor. There were things that seemed to glint like jewels in amongst the wreath, and it took Legolas a moment to realize that they were silver leaves of ivy that intertwined itself with the flowers. How and when had this happened? Legolas had lived his whole life in Eryn Galen and never before had he seen this beautiful fixture in their halls.

He looked over at Húrin with wonder, only to see the same look of questioning and confusion on her face. His eyes moved to look again at the flowers that had suddenly materialized above him. Without question, it was one of the most beautiful things Legolas had ever seen, but he did not have much longer to look, for he found himself being towed along by Glorfindel.

Still too dazed to fight or process, he allowed himself to be brought down the halls and eventually into the chambers of Glorfindel's room.

He placed the two young elflings across the room and shut the door before he turned to face them. A look of severity and stern discipline was upon his face.

"Think carefully to whom you speak to before you answer." Demanded Glorfindel sharply. Legolas knew that look. It was the same look his father gave someone before he dealt out sentencing to those who had done injustices. Slowly crossing the room towards them, his gaze passed back and forth between the two slowly.

"Húrin, Legolas, when did you begin courting, and why have you kept this matter hidden from me?"

oo00oo

Elrohir sighed, continuing to admire the new object of conversation that hung in the open air. He relaxed upon a bench, thinking over the events of what had been rather a dramatic party. He looked over to see Arwen still speaking with some of the last guests, catching her attentions.

She quickly wrapped up whatever she was saying to the elves, and came over to sit next to him, also gazing up to admire the flowers.

"Quite a night, was it not?" Arwen commented.

He gave a small grin that quickly faded. "I did not know that it was possible to have so much jealousy in one room. There were many looks of envy today."

Arwen's brow furrowed, "I am quite sad that there was such enmity between so many of our kin today. I also did not expect it, though it is now an unremarkable fact when I think back on it."

Elrohir nodded grimly, "Indeed _muinthel_ _[sister]._ What with Glorfindel, your, and Legolas's attendance, it is a wonder that there were not all out fights. It is not every day that the fairest of our kind are all dancing at the same banquet."

Biting back a grimace at his mention of her beauty, she changed the subject, "Húrin is beginning to grow in her own acclaim as well is she not? She has grown more fair, as she has grown in power. Tonight is evidence of that."

The severity on Elrohir's face diminished as he again gazed up at the sparkling ring that Húrin had made. "She has grown quite a lot." he said softly.

Arwen looked over at her brother and paused. "Elrohir...are you interested in Húrin?"

Elrohir continued to peer upwards, "I am...fascinated by her. She has such warmth, and strength of character to repeatedly tell King Thranduil no, she will not do things on his terms. And I will not speak against how she has grown in loveliness."

"Some would call her refusal cowardice." She pointed out.

"Nay _muinthel_ , there is no shame in wanting to be a healer. Were she to refuse to take part in this war and fly to the farthest hills, then I might call her a coward. She is also so young. I do not begrudge her in the slightest for turning down the bow and arrow."

Feeling a little shaken, Arwen sat back against the bench. "I am happy for you _hanar [brother]_ , but fearful as well. _Ada_ has seen many unsettling things in the future for Húrin. And as your _muinthel_ , I should tell you that Legolas is working through his own feelings regarding Húrin as well."

Elrohir shook his head, "Legolas's feelings are marred by Elladan's inklings and encouragement. Our _hanar_ is pushing the young prince towards her so that she may take his view and see battle. I do not believe there are any real feelings there."

"But what of this creation?" Arwen gestured towards the chandelier of light and blooms, "It was made during her dance with Legolas. Does not the strength of her song while she was with him speak of some kind of attraction?"

Pursing his lips, in a very uncharacteristic manner, he hesitated, considering for a moment. "I do not know what significance it has. Perhaps it was merely the music or the dance and not the partner himself. You should have seen how pale her face was this morning when she laid eyes on Legolas. No, I do not believe it was because of him."

" _An ngell nîn [please]_ , be careful. The heart is a fragile thing." Arwen said softly.

Elrohir smiled, "There is no need to worry _muinthel_ , I shall be fine."

"Does Elladan know?"

He shook his head. "I do not think he would approve. He is of the mind that Húrin is weak and shameful. I would appreciate it if you would not tell him."

She nodded. "He can be quite hard-headed when he wants to be."

Elrohir laughed heartily, "But truer and more loyal than can be said for any other _ellon_."

"Indeed." She responded, joining in his laugh.

They quieted and allowed the stillness to hang between them as the stars continued to reign in the night sky.

"I must go and rest. We leave at first light for Amon Lanc on our scouting mission." said Elrohir as he stood.

Arwen stood also, embracing her brother before heading off to her own quarters.

Elrohir turned to leave through a separate hallway. He needed to find Elladan and Cúthalion. There was still much to plan before the night was over.

oo00oo

 **Thanks for reading guys! I hope you'll leave me a review if you liked it, didn't like it, or anything in between haha (that covers everyone who read it just fyi).**


	10. Chapter 9: Muted Song (Pt 1)

**A/N: Hey guys! Long time no see. This chapter took me a really long time, and I kept going over and over it, adding and changing things until I was somewhat satisfied. Once again, it's too long, so this is a two parter. Hope you enjoy!**

 _Dramatis Personae_

Legolas/princeling - son of King Thranduil (86 yo)

Hurin/aew - daughter of Methedras, singer of the trees (83 yo)

Lord Elrond - Ruler of Imladris/Rivendell (4328 yo)

King Thranduil - Ruler of Eryn Galen (age unknown)

Mithrandir/Olorin - One of the 5 Maiar sent by the Ainur (sent in the TA)

Glorfindel - Reincarnated elf with great (unknown) powers, was a great warrior in the FA, sent by the Ainur in 1600 SA

Cuthalion - Great bowman of the guard in Eryn Galen, training Legolas (2365 yo)

Elladan - son of Elrond, on loan to King Thranduil (970 yo)

Elrohir - son of Elrond, on loan to King Thranduil (970 yo)

Arwen Undomiel - daughter of Lord Elrond (658 yo)

Gladhwen - mother of Hurin (640 yo)

Methedras - father of Hurin (1328 yo)

Lalaith - member of the Woodland guard (1694 yo)

Melkor - also known as Morgoth, one of the Ainur who fell, corrupting the Music of the Ainur

Elbereth - Queen of the Valar, Elves often swear by her as she is lady of the stars

oo00oo

* * *

 _I built my fortress with my hands_  
 _It washed away just like the sand_  
 _And all I had to do was sing_  
 _Who knew it'd cost me everything_  
 _So I sang every note just to keep it afloat_  
 _But no one's ever listening_

 _Cause I'm to young to call it a day_  
 _And I'm too old to make anymore mistakes_  
 _And can I make something beautiful_  
 _Just once before I die_  
 _Give me one chance to try_

 _-Tim Ouyang (One Chance)_

00

oo

00

 _1100 of the Third Age  
_ _Night of Húrin's 83rd begetting celebration_

Legolas and Húrin stood opposite Glorfindel, a mix of indignation, confusion, and embarrassment.

Their minds tried to conjure words that would reach their mouths. However, they were both failing quite badly at making their tongues move in a coherent manner.

Glorfindel's glare bore into both of them as he flicked between their faces, waiting for an answer.

"And do not think I am ignorant of your speech in your minds. I have known of it since the first time I saw the two of you in council more than forty years ago. If you speak to one another in that way, it will be as plain as day to me." Glorfindel warned.

Húrin, after many stumbled words finally managed to find a voice. "Glorfindel, I swear to you that Legolas and I have not courted. We have only just begun to speak to one another in a civil manner."

Where Húrin was pleading in her voice and posture, Legolas stood feeling much more indignation. What right did this elf, however great he may be, have to demand to know what may or may not be happening in their minds and hearts?

"I do not see how that is of your concern." the prince replied coolly.

Húrin turned to look at him in horror. "Legolas! What are you saying? Deny this at once!"

Legolas, now having fully regained his composure, directed his words at Glorfindel, ignoring Húrin's demand. "What would be the problem if we were? You are overstepping your role as Húrin's mentor if you are merely concerned with our courtship. I don't see how our dance warranted an interruption and being dragged into your apartments. What is going on?"

Glorfindel shut his eyes and shook his head in exasperation, pinching the bridge of his nose. "It is clear to me now that you are not courting at the moment. Now that I am able to hear more clearly without the glîr of so many other Eldar in the room, that much is plain."

He moved his eyes to look again directly at them. "But it is just as clear that there is a connection between the two of you, and it is mainly because of you, Legolas."

Knowing that Glorfindel was waiting for a reaction, Legolas tried very hard to keep his expression calm and waited patiently for further explanation. He was really beginning to feel as though he did not like Glorfindel and his games. He was not going to give him the satisfaction of seeing him shocked again.

Húrin on the other hand, fought to control her panic. What were they saying? Why was Legolas not speaking truthfully about the state of their relationship? Of all people to scorn her, she knew Glorfindel could hurt her the most. She could not let him believe something about her that was untrue.

"Húrin, you have a great gift." Glorfindel turned to look at her. "And in your own right, you could become very powerful. Were someone to be able to harmonize with your song, intimately understand you, really understand your very core, they could amplify your ability. I have never heard two glîr synchronize the way that Legolas's did with yours when you were dancing. You must have felt it, there is no way that you did not."

Húrin nodded apprehensively. "I did feel...something. A kind of wholeness. I must confess that I did not even know I was singing."

Glorfindel turned to Legolas, "You have always been able to speak easily into Húrin's mind?"

"I have. It is the only thing I have been able to communicate with or even find in my mind."

Glorfindel's eyebrows knit together in thought, "Mmm, and you can feel Legolas, Húrin?"

She shook her head. "You know that I have a great deal of trouble communicating with anything with sentience. Legolas is no exception. I must concentrate with him as I do with you."

The great elf took a moment of pause, concentration clearly written on his expression.

"I do not know exactly what is happening between the two of you. What I do know for certain I will share with you." He moved his gaze to look at them again, "Legolas has an intimate understanding of you Húrin. I cannot exactly articulate why or how, or even what this means, but the connection is undeniable and strong. He is able to hear you as clearly as you are able to hear the trees, Húrin. Somehow he has tuned into the song of your heart."

Húrin took a step back, steadying herself against the wall. She was terrified that any should see inside her heart, especially Legolas. Her eyes were locked on Glorfindel, afraid to look Legolas in the face, fearing what she may find there.

Legolas, however, was not looking back at the cowering she-elf, but lost in his own state of concentration.

"Should you two spend more time together, this is something that you could harness and grow. Although, I do not know if that is something that you wish. Indeed, there may be consequences to harmonizing too often." Glorfindel continued.

Coming out of his state of focus, Legolas's head shot up. "Consequences?"

Glorfindel nodded, "Indeed. As harmony changes a song, there are a few consequences of which I am afraid of. One is that you may influence one another more than you mean to. This seems unlikely considering how often you have...mm, disagreed in the past and stayed steadfast in your decisions, but it remains a possibility. The other is that you, Húrin, may become so used to Legolas's aid that you become unable to access glîr on your own."

Legolas heard Húrin shift uncomfortably behind him. He wasn't quite sure what all this talk of glîr was all about, but he could tell from the context that it was somehow linked to what Hurin was able to do. Without looking behind him, he could only imagine how the idea of losing her ability to see the life in others was abhorrent to her. He shifted so that he was standing a little more in front of her, putting his body between her and Glorfindel.

"So what do you propose?" Stated Legolas flatly.

"I am unsure. This is unprecedented. I have no form or frame of reference from which to act. It is clear from your dance together, that you have immense power when you are with one another. I do not know if you are aware, but you sang a song of unity, and from it, all the surrounding trees wove together. The vines heard and sought to become one of the sparkling pieces of sky, creating a silver sheen on each leaf. Even the Eldar stopped in their jealousies for a short time. I was also taken by the song, remembering my connection to this earth and our kin. That is why it took me so long to awaken you. This is no small matter that we are dealing with."

Húrin chewed her bottom lip, weighing her options. It seemed that she was always being made to decide something that she didn't feel ready for. The consequences of her actions seemed to determine so much, and she was tired of feeling like she was always doing the wrong thing.

Legolas raised his chin and shifted his feet to take a confident stance. "I do not think that it is wisest that we forgo this newfound ability we've uncovered. Perhaps it has risen for such a time as this. Lightness rising with the dark."

Húrin looked at him, having flashbacks to when they were asked to step up as young children. She saw in him now in the same stance, a front of confidence covering uncertainty and indecision.

Glorfindel eyed him with a sharp look of scrutiny. "Are you so sure of yourself? That you and Húrin will be able to control this...ability?"

Without glancing back, Legolas gave a curt, sure nod of his head.

Sighing, and again shaking his head, Glorfindel conceded. "I do not know if that is the wisest path, but I cannot see clearly what is. For now, you will train together. You will eat together, converse together, whatever it takes to fully understand what it is you are able to do. Húrin, though I will be very carefully focusing on your glir, I will also be trusting you to decipher much on your own. I believe that you will be able to feel much more than I will."

Húrin nodded numbly, still not quite sure that she agreed with all that had taken place. Another feeling of deja vu washed over her. Somehow, she always seemed to end up with other people making decisions concerning her life. She almost opened her mouth to speak up and make her presence known, but years of watching Glorfindel, knowing her trust in him was well founded, kept her from making a sound.

Her mind drifted to just a few minutes ago when she had been floated around the room by Legolas's gentle touch. Perhaps it would not be so bad to spend more time with him...

Satisfied that they had come to the best decision that they could with their limited information, Glorfindel opened the door, motioning that they could now leave.

Legolas swiftly walked out of the room with barely a nod at Glorfindel. He only turned back when he realized Húrin was not following, motioning with his head for her to join him.

Bowing quickly in thanks and slight apology to Glorfindel, she quickly scrambled after Legolas who had again begun walking.

Glorfindel joined them out in the corridor, closing the door behind him. "After the feast we were to attend the scouting briefing in the council room. I would be surprised if it has not been somewhat delayed by the events of today, but we should all make haste there nonetheless."

The three journeyed down the winding hallways of the Elvenking in silence, though their minds were all bright with thoughts.

Stepping into the council room, Legolas, Glorfindel, and Húrin quickly found seats, as Elrohir was already speaking, pointing at the large map on the table in the middle of the room.

"...which is the weakest point. Remember, this is strictly a reconnaissance mission. We do NOT engage. We are going as a small party and therefore our priorities are speed, stealth, and the gathering of information." Elrohir paused to glower at the late attendees for a moment.

"When traveling we will ride in _Pann [wide]_ formation with Glorfindel and Legolas at the front, and Húrin at the back with Elladan. Both of these parties will mainly travel using the canopy to increase stealth and range of vision. We will not require left and right guards due to Húrin and Glorfindel's glir sensitivity. " He continued, pointing at markers on the map indicating the formation.

"Legolas and Húrin should travel together, whether it be in the front or the back." Glorfindel interrupted. Húrin resisted shooting a look at Legolas for assurance.

Turning to face Glorfindel, Elrohir showed plainly his confusion. "I would keep the head of our party strongest in detection and our flank strongest in arms. You and Húrin are the only ones who can utilize glir to see enemies hidden from sight, sound, and smell. I hold that you stay in the front as the one with greater skills of perception."

Glorfindel shook his head, "Nay, this is an issue in which I will not waver. They must be a team. Place them where you will. Legolas may not be an equal fighter to Elladan, but he is strong enough."

Legolas fought the urge to sink into a sulk at being compared to Elladan. Settling for an unsatisfied glower, he held his tongue, aware that any outburst would not be productive at this time.

Consternation still playing on Elrohir's face, he studied Glorfindel, as if trying to read his resolve before slowly nodding. "I will defer to you Glorfindel, though I do not understand your reasoning behind your insistence." His eyes moved from Glorfindel to warily eye Legolas with a look of suspicion.

A small smile spread on Elladan's lips as he moved forward toward the map. "Peace _hanar_. Glorfindel does nothing without reason. I believe that we can trust him. Besides, I would enjoy the company of the great elf. We shall take the rear."

Unstiffening a little, Elrohir turned to lean over the table once more. "The journey should take us no more than 3 days to reach Amon Lanc. However, once we come within 500 meters of the tree boundary, we will move in a small tight knit group, all taking to the trees. There will be no words. Glorfindel will handle all communications through his particular abilities. We are not to be seen, we are not to be heard. And to avoid being given away by our scent, I am forbidding bathing until we return here to the Halls of the Elvenking. Sleeping in the forest for a few days will help to mask it. In addition, we have these."

Elrohir held up shoddy looking pieces of iron, lacking any craftsmanship in their make or design. They looked as though someone had found scraps of metal and hammered them together. Struggling to keep from holding his nose at the stench wafting from the orc garments, Elladan surmised that that was probably the case.

"Orc's gear. We will don them on the third day of riding. These are my general instructions, does anyone have anything they would like spoken before we adjourn?" Elrohir asked surveying the room.

Silence echoed through the council room. Elrohir had successfully conveyed the gravity of the mission and the understanding of it was written on all of their faces.

He gave a sharp nod, "Then I shall see you all at the stables at dawn."

The elves in attendance slowly stood, many glancing over the map before leaving. Some conversed quietly, discussing equipment and such before leaving.

Húrin looked over at Legolas, determined to see through her agreement with Glorfindel. She would stay by his side until they understood their bond better.

His eyes were already on her, grey steel glinting like metal flashing in the sunlight.

 _We should get some rest Húrin._ Legolas's mind whispered gently.

Húrin gave a small shake of her head. _I wish to speak of this bond with you further. I do not think I can rest otherwise._

Legolas stood, striding across the room to Húrin. He stopped directly in front of her, leaning toward her slightly to look her squarely in the face. _You really will not be able to rest?_

Peeking up at him through her lashes, she shook her head slowly. _I do not believe so Legolas. Does it not eat at you that you may not know your own mind truly?_

He continued to look at her intensely, searching her features. He then drew back, a small furrow taking shape in his brow. _Very well then, we shall discuss this in my quarters. Though I do not know if we will find the answers you seek. If you are still unsatisfied in an hour, you must promise to go back to your room and try to rest. I will not have a partner who is not alert tomorrow._

Húrin nodded, moving to follow as he walked out of the room.

She was very familiar with the hallways that lead her to Legolas's room. As elflings, they had often played in one another's rooms.

Entering the room, Legolas gestured for Húrin to have a seat on the bench next to window. He moved to sit next to her, keeping a little distance between them.

"So what questions do you have?" Legolas began.

Húrin turned so that she was sideways on the bench, facing him. "Does it not bother you at all? The wreath we created above the hall today?"

"Húrin, there are many things that prey on my mind, 'harmonizing' with you is far from a bother to me."

She looked at him quizzically. There were just so many unanswered questions, how could he not be put off balance by them?

The questions started slow as she began to speak, and then came faster and faster, spilling from her mouth in a torrent."But Legolas, how did this happen? How could we have harmonized? Why is it that you can understand my glîr so clearly and yet I cannot read yours at all? What does it mean that you can only hear mine? And how is it that you can know my glîr so intimately and yet not understand why I-why I…" She hesitated, unsure of how to put their previous disagreements delicately.

"You mean, why have we fought so fiercely with one another in the past. Why have I remain unmoved by you if I truly knew your mind." Legolas finished flatly.

Húrin scowled, fury growing at his calm demeanor. "How could you have called me a, a coward!? And withdrawn your friendship from me?" She reached forward to take his hand. "I needed you to understand. How could you not know that?"

Legolas looked down at where Húrin's hand now rested on top of his. A moment passed before he slowly withdrew his own hand from underneath.

"That's exactly what I needed from you." He whispered, raising his gaze so it rested on hers.

"My mother had just died in front of me. My best friend lay for days in a coma and my father…" His head dropped to face away from her, his eyebrows drawing together in an unforgiving crease that drew his countenance into a dark scowl. "My father cannot bear to even look at me anymore. Everyone I loved was taken from me in a matter of hours."

He swung back to look at her squarely, "And you would not help me seek justice for any of it." He growled.

Withdrawing slightly, Húrin looked down at her dejected hand, murmuring, "Then why have you been so welcoming to me of late? If you truly feel this way, then how is it you have called my _mellon [friend]_ so many times today?"

Húrin's question was met with silence and a pursing of the lips from Legolas.

She waited, feeling each breath she drew a little heavier than the last. Able to wait no longer, she mentally gathered herself to leave when Legolas finally spoke. His voice was soft, but his words were clear.

"Because, despite everything, I could not bear to see you hurt."

More questions sprung to Húrin's mind, but she bit her tongue to keep from interrupting.

"There are some who would…" he paused, "use you for your talents. I was trying to keep your attention so that you would not be taken in by their designs."

He sighed, a chink in the steel grey of his eyes appearing as his armor fell away. "As much as I despise you at times, I still care for you. Arwen helped me realize that perhaps there is more to my feelings toward you than hate."

Húrin immediately felt herself brighten, and though even more questions began swimming around in her head, they now were tinged with hope. The hope however, did not completely swallow the bitterness. He cared for her yes, but he also just admitted to having falsely offered friendship.

He looked at her intently, and she quickly tried to keep her hopeful expression in check. "Now I have a few questions of my own Húrin. I admit to not having any idea as to what Glorfindel was speaking of in his chambers. What is glîr? What exactly are you able to do and what does it have to do with me?"

Thankful for the distraction, Húrin sat back against the bench. "Ilúvatar was able to create using the Music of the Ainur, which was his original Vision of the World."

Legolas nodded. "Aye, I remember much of this from the readings of the history of our people. We are the Children of Ilúvatar and thus created by the Ainur."

"Exactly. Glorfindel and I have, what I would call, a second hearing. In everything that was created by the Music of the Ainur, there is still a hum, or an echo of that same song that it was created from. It resonates in everything, like a true essence since it is the song that defines its true nature. We call this song within everything _glîr_. Glorfindel says he was always able to hear the soft thrumming of it. However, when he was sent back into the world after defeating the Balrog, it has become even easier for him to discern. Essentially, he can perceive the true essence of anything he comes into contact with."

Legolas's eyes widened. "By the Valar, is he not able to defeat even Melkor with such power?"

Húrin shook her head. "I do not believe he is able to manipulate it, merely hear it. It makes him excellent in debate and council, but does not truly aid in battle that much. Though I suppose I have never witnessed him in a fight, so I do not know for certain."

Legolas also drew back, now deeply in thought.

"I am beginning to understand the depth of what we have done in the Hall of my father. You are also able to hear _glîr_ in others?"

"Not in the same way or to the extent that Glorfindel can. We have been training these many years so that I may hear it more clearly, but I confess to having not made much progress. I still have a greater affinity for trees and plants. I am unable to speak into minds or ascertain the intentions of an elf with any semblance of ease." She conceded, the disappointment clear in her voice.

"But you are able to manipulate glîr, unlike Glorfindel." Legolas pointed out.

"Indeed, though I have never done anything like tonight. It has mostly been the physical manipulation of branches in order to move more quickly through them. Or surveillance. The trees often tell me who is among them. To be able to make a branch blossom before its time is not something I knew I was able to do."

"Hmm…" Legolas lay his head back against the headrest of the bench, digesting the information.

Then suddenly he shot up, his face one of shock.

"This is why you wanted to meet! You are of the mind that because I can perceive your glîr, I could manipulate it, changing your thoughts and essence."

Húrin vigorously shook her head. "No Legolas, I do not fear that you will be able to change my thoughts. I believe that we already know that if you truly could, it would have been done already. I am troubled that you are so easily able to hear my glîr and no one else's. It feels very…" she fought to keep a blush at bay, "intimate."

Legolas leaned forward. "Are you concerned that I may have full comprehension and access to your mind?"

Barely able to look up at Legolas's face, she stole a glance through her lashes and inclined her head.

"But you have nothing to hide." Legolas said carefully.

Húrin turned to the side, "I do not."

Then, swinging around to face him, her expression hard, "But that is not the point. I feel as though I have been violated. Like you are able to access that which you have no right to."

To Hurin's surprise, Legolas leaned closer still. She found herself backed up all the way up against the armrest of the bench.

"We have known one another the majority of our time on Middle Earth, why should we not know one another's minds?" He said softly, a lilting charm in his voice.

She felt hope and anger rise within her at his attempt to make merry with her again. Every time he had called her friend or laughed with her this day had been false. She recognized the longing within her to be brought on only by his lies. She could no longer allow it to grow.

How dare he lay claim to her mind! When he has done nothing but insult and deceive her. Behind the anger and frustration, she carefully began constructing a wall to fence in her yearnings that insisted his charm and intentions were true. She had to keep them in check.

"You have only played the friend this past day. You admitted to me yourself that your intentions were to stave off a threat, not rekindle a friendship!" Her voice broke as all her thoughts of fancy and butterflies throughout the day rushed from her, leaving nothing but a feeling of foolishness behind. She would not allow how the years had grown him in fairness to sway her mind and heart any longer. He only wanted to use her.

"The last time you have smiled upon my presence was nigh on 50 years ago. You cannot deceive me anymore on where we stand. We are not friends, we are not anything!" Húrin spat, her vision becoming blurry from tears threatening to spill over.

Legolas finally retreated, sitting up straight across from her. "For your first point, you speak truly. I will concede that I have harbored feelings of ill will towards you. And yes, I at first had false intentions of friendship when you first arrived. But…" He inched forward cautiously.

A ceremonial braid freed itself from behind his ear at the movement, and through her anger Húrin still felt herself wanting to reach forward and tuck it back into place. Despite all that she had said, his face still displayed a vulnerability that kept her frozen to her seat.

"...I found that I wasn't pretending. I was not expecting this." His eyes ran over her form. "You have changed. I have changed. But when I speak to you without allowing the bitterness I feel to take control, I remember who we were. I know that many wrongs have been done, but had I not approached you with the pretense of having forgiven you, I may never have realized that I even want to forgive."

Húrin continued to stay locked in place, trying to curb the rising hope in her that always insisted on giving Legolas the benefit of the doubt.

"I do want to know your mind, Húrin. If you'll let me." His eyes bore such sincerity, drawing her in, pulling her towards his will like a magnet. "The wreath was created when I heartily handed over my apprehension and sought your good. It is late, but perhaps I can still try to understand what you needed me to know all those years ago."

Húrin eyed him cautiously. "What did you mean when you said 'you were not expecting this'? And how is it that you have changed? I have long since forgiven your words spoken in heartbreak and anger when we last parted. The fact that you can so freely deceive those you claim to care for is of greater concern to me."

 _And what of my own mind, what if you do not like what you find there?_ She thought to herself.

Turning away from her gaze, Legolas felt himself caught between longing to answer her question, but being slightly embarrassed at the truth he would have to reveal.

"For your first question, it is plain to any who look on you what I am referring to." He finally managed, averting his eyes.

The longing within her stirred a little.

"Your travels with Glorfindel have changed you Húrin. I can see it in the very way you carry yourself now. As for my deception, I suppose you will have to work out for yourself whether you feel you can trust me. I do not have any other explanations or pleadings that I feel are prudent to offer."

Húrin looked at him intently. She wanted to believe him. Oh, how badly she wanted to look at his face and see only her trusted friend with whom she shared many secrets and stolen nights of giggling. But her heart told her that should she choose to allow Legolas in a little, he would flood her every thought and heartbeat.

It was too dangerous.

She was beginning to recognize her blushes and butterflies for what they were.

She was drawn to him.

Somewhere in the broken shards of their friendship, she had held on to this idea of him that he now again presented to her. The friend, the confidante. And now just to look at him, her heart beat a little faster. She would not, no. Could not allow herself to fall.

"Perhaps with time Legolas, I shall grow to know your own mind better. I believe it is only fair. We will follow Glorfindel's instructions, but I would not have you speak into my mind until I can readily speak into yours."

Legolas bowed his head, chuckling darkly. "It seems as though every time we speak, we can only come to a disagreement. However, unlike before, I will endeavour to understand. I will not speak into your mind unless it is part of a mission."

Satisfied, Húrin nodded curty before standing. "I believe my time is up. As per our agreement, I will go to my quarters to sleep now."

She then walked to the door, very aware of Legolas's eyes, trailing her as she made her way out.

oo00oo

* * *

The company of 10 hand-picked Woodland guard assembled at the stables at dawn along with Elladan, Elrohir, Legolas, Glorfindel, Mithrandir, and Húrin. They all wore light armor of dark brown leather and dark green jerkins underneath. They were equipped for stealth and speed.

Without exchanging many words all were saddled and riding within minutes. Legolas and Húrin were saddled behind other riders for the first day, because they would have to take to the trees for the second and third days, they would need to save their strength. Glorfindel and Elladan were likewise sharing horses with members of the guard.

Legolas noticed almost as soon as they entered the dense part of the trees that Húrin began to glance over at him with looks of disbelief. He tried hard not to stare back and focused on moving with the rhythm of the horse.

Elrohir lead the party swiftly through the brush, keeping a rapid pace, pushing his horse to a constant gallop. The horses picked up on the riders' nervous energy, running hard as the anxious tension between the riders continued to reign.

Hours passed and nightfall came, rapidly darkening the foliage under the trees.

Mercifully for the horses, Elrohir called the party to a halt near midnight and they silently made camp. Watches had already been set up as per Elrohir's briefing. Elladan, Glorfindel, Húrin, and Legolas were being saved for watches on the 2nd and 3rd night as the danger was greater and they would serve as the best guards.

Húrin made her bed next to Legolas, though he could feel her eyes continue to study him. He was determined not to flinch under her scrutiny. He tried to reassure himself that she was merely trying to decide whether he was trustworthy or not. Or perhaps she was trying to speak into his mind unsuccessfully. They exchanged many looks but no words and fell asleep on the ground next to one another.

The night passed without event and soon the party was saddled and moving once again, only now the four specialists had taken their positions in the treetops.

Legolas and Húrin fell effortlessly into their pattern of racing through the canopy, only Húrin also called upon the trees to aid Legolas as he leapt from branch to branch. The years had grown him in stature and skill. He launched himself with power, a leopard in its element, skill evident in his movements. While Húrin glided through the branches like silk caught in a breeze, Legolas was deliberate and dangerous.

As they ran, she kept in constant communication with the trees, making sure to monitor as far as she could in all directions as they moved. Legolas naturally fell slightly behind her, keeping alert to dangers that he could sense. A large part of his mind, however, was fixed on watching Húrin tumble through the branches. He had not thought it possible, but she was even more graceful now then when he had last seen her, nearly at one with the trees. He felt the admiration that he had once held for her sprout again.

Hours passed and Legolas found himself incredibly thankful for his long hours of training and sparring with Elladan and Elrohir. His muscles were fatigued, but not spent. Húrin, however, seemed to be having no trouble at all staying aloft, her merciless pace leaving him hard pressed to keep up.

The day ended, and Legolas half-fell, half-climbed down the tree as he sunk to the ground in exhaustion. Húrin nimbly climbed down, landing next to him her feet barely making a sound on the ground.

He heard a muffled giggle and rolled onto his back to frown up at her. "You find something amusing Húrin?"

She tried to hide her smile with little success. "It is not I but the trees that find it humorous you are tired."

She extended a hand towards him which he took, though the sulk did not fade from his face.

"Please remind them that I am a great source of their protection." Legolas muttered.

"Overgrown weeds." He added under his breath.

Húrin's face grew serious. "It is because you are _Elmeneg maethor [slayer of a thousand]_ that they find your shortcomings amusing. As we speak, they are boasting that they have bested you where more than a thousand Urukhai could not."

Legolas arched a dark brow in question, " _Elmeneg maethor_? That is what they call me? Do they have names for Elladan and Elrohir as well?"

She shook her head. "They are lighthearted now, but in truth, they fear you."

Her voice lowered as the gravity in her face became more plain, "They see a fury and hatred in your heart that they have never seen in one who protects them. Only in those that have harmed them."

A glare formed on Legolas's face as he opened his mouth to speak. Without uttering a sound he moved his lips as to answer, but then snapped it shut, grinding his teeth.

"The forest told me of you when I first came back to Eryn Galen. I did not know it was you, only that a warrior with darkness in his heart had come amongst them. As soon as I entered the forest with you, however, the trees became anxious and fell all but silent."

"I protect them, and they only cast scathing remarks upon me." He said through gritted teeth as he gazed up at the trees. "I have destroyed entire nests of spiders single handedly and overrun trolls twice my size. Half the forest would be firewood in the bellows of those Valar forsaken creatures if it were not for my skill in combat!"

Húrin found that she was beginning to become accustomed to Legolas's flaring temper. Meeting his eyes, she spoke softly. "Is it for their sake that you fight? Or for the sake of your own revenge?"

"What does it matter?!" Legolas snapped. "They are saved all the same. You are unwilling to fight for either. If anything, you should be the object of their scorn."

Húrin closed her eyes slowly, frustration finally giving way. "Come." She said, extending her hand towards the seething prince.

Confused, and still feeling put out, Legolas warily eyed her hand before hesitantly placing his hand in hers. It was warm and he now noticed, tougher than he thought it would be. Strong in its form, but tender in its touch.

Húrin walked a bit away from the camp, just out of sight and sound. Taking the hand that was in hers, she gently placed it on a nearby tree trunk.

"Close your eyes." She instructed. "I know we have tried this before, but I truly wish for you to understand. The changes within you frighten me, and you should know why if we are to better understand this bond we have. This time, as you focus, I will tell you a story. A story I should have told you long ago."

She paused.

"It is about my mother."

Legolas opened his eyes wide in disbelief at Húrin for a moment. She had never mentioned her mother in front of him. Not in 35 years of spending nearly every day in each other's confidences. Any questions were always met with sad eyes and a quick change in conversation.

He saw the same sad eyes on her face now, but also with a deeper strength welled up behind it. She nodded at him knowingly and he obediently closed his eyes, concentrating on the thrumming life under his palm and the soft musical voice of Húrin.

"Her name was Gladhwen. I do not remember much of her, and what I do remember I am told is not an accurate reflection of who she truly was. I did not tell you the full story about how I came to understand the trees. Even from infancy, I have been able to discern the Music of the Ainur, though I did not know that was what it was, much more strongly than I am able to now. I know more of my gift than I have been forthcoming about. This hearing is greatly amplified, through touch." she explained as the cautiously placed her own hand over the top of Legolas's hand on the tree.

Glancing over at him, she saw his eyebrows twitch, but other than that he did not move, so she continued.

"While my mother was with child, she began to already feel the effects of my abilities. She started to be able to hear the Music and commune with nature and sentient souls in the way that I can. I am even told by my father that she used to sway to it, moving so beautifully that it was as though Elbereth had come and guided her steps. He said that she never looked or acted more lovely than when she was heavy with me."

Legolas had kept his mind locked on her voice, a melody of words that spun together a picture both beautiful and fragile.

But then she had touched him, and it was like a jolt had come from the palm of her hand and shot to his very core.

Even recently, they had touched quite often, out of familiarity and civility. But now, he felt that she was not holding back, she was truly touching him, in body and in mind. He found that through her, he could feel how his own song was not quite right. There was a sharpness, a dissidence that fell out of tune with the tree that rested under his palm and the ground that now thrummed beneath his feet.

"But then she gave birth to me," Húrin continued, "and as quickly as her second hearing had come, it left her. She was never the same. She would always make sure we were touching, even as I began to grow to crawling and walking, she was frantic to make sure I never left her side. I remember once even that she bound me to her. She became paranoid that someone would come and steal me away from her, and I felt the _glîr_ in her shift from the Music of the Ainur to something darker and dissident in melody. Methedras, my father, did his best to console her, but she would cry, saying that he did not look at her with the same eyes as when I was still inside of her."

Legolas found himself searching the difference in tones between his own glir and what he could now hear of the Music. It called to him. Something was missing, something was off, and a longing began to grow in him to find harmony with the the chorus of voices that echoed around him.

"As I said, I could hear the shift, but I did not know what it meant. One day, Galadriel came so that she could assess for herself my gifting and perhaps teach me." Húrin paused, gathering herself. "My mother greeted her calmly, before trying to stab her with a mithril knife, convinced that Galadriel wanted to take me for herself."

Legolas's eyes flew open, no longer concentrating on the Music around him, turning to look at Húrin.

"Galadriel easily spoke into her mind and placed her in a deep sleep. She offered my father two choices. He could leave with my mother to the Undying Lands and I would stay here to be raised by Galadriel, or he could stay here with me but be separated from my mother until I was grown." She inhaled deeply. "He chose to stay with me, but I could always see the longing in his eyes for my mother. I only served as a reminder of her, and not only that, but a reminder of why she left. He never touched me my whole life. I don't know if it was out of respect for the possessiveness of Gladhwen, or if he just couldn't bear to touch me out of disgust. The child that drove his love insane. Dangerous and foreign."

Húrin's voice grew more and more distant. She was now speaking more to the ground than to anyone in particular.

Without any hesitation, Legolas turned his hand that was under hers, entwining his fingers between hers. A gentle tug and a step forward was all that was needed to pull her into the strong embrace of his arms and chest.

She looked up at him, blinking in surprise.

"That is why you sought solace among the trees." He finished for her, a gentle murmur against her silvery hair.

Tears spilling over, she clenched her eyes and buried her head into Legolas's chest. She had not meant to cry again. She cried in front of him too many times already. Somehow, he still managed to touch the deepest parts of her in a way that no one else could.

They stood that way for many heartbeats, each thudding slower as the touch and comfort of the other brought calm to them both.

Finally Húrin found her voice again, feeling the need to finish her story. She drew back slightly, not out of his arms, but enough so that she could look up at his face she spoke.

"The trees and forest of Lothlorien are unchanging. Solid. The Music of Ainur flows through them and it does not alter. They do not withdraw, and in a way...they are as lonely as I."

"Also this way you cannot harm anyone else with your gifts, right?" Legolas speculated.

She nodded. "I was wary when you first asked me to find your mind Legolas. I was so afraid the same could happen to you."

Legolas was silent for a moment, brushing a stray hair from her face. "You are afraid that I could turn into your mother?"

Húrin looked away, too uncomfortable to answer.

The crease between his dark brows signalled Legolas's frustration as he let out a sigh.

"Really, I wanted to tell you all this so that you might understand why I am so apprehensive to fight. To hurt. Feeling the death of your mother and the guard just reinforced that within me." Húrin added quickly. "I have already caused so much pain. I do not wish for more."

Legolas nodded in understanding. "And this is what you wanted me to understand 50 years ago?"

She nodded, keeping her eyes on his chest.

He threw back his head, putting a hand over his eyes as a grim laugh escaped his lips. "How could I have possibly understood without knowing all of this?"

Húrin huffed. "I thought explaining to you the trauma of experiencing death was enough. It is also not as though I was of a clear mind, or even a mature mind!"

He looked at her, her green eyes still puffy from crying, mingled with pain and yet calm in the strength of his arms. He hugged her closer so that his chin rested upon her head. "Do you not see how love drives you to fight sometimes?"

"It is not worth the poisoning of your own heart. Your _glîr_ has changed, and that frightens me. It is not easy to alter what defines you, particularly for an elf."

He brushed aside her statement. He would have to think on this in his own time. Changing the subject slightly, Legolas peered over Húrin's head back towards the camp. "Does Glorfindel know of this?"

He felt Húrin incline her head against his chest. "He, your father, and Elrond all know of what happened. I believe your mother knew too in truth. Your father is the one who first invited us to come to Eryn Galen. He thought that being around someone my own age as well as taking my father away from Lothlorien would be healthy. I believe Elrond was the one who first intended to use my gift for the bettering of Eryn Galen."

Legolas took a moment to process the information.

 _Father knew? And he intended for them to have a better life here. Did he think of my benefit as well?_ He pondered.

He looked down at Húrin, this she-elf, so hated and yet so…

He would comfort any friend like this right? But were they even friends? He admitted to not having much of a frame of reference for friendship. When he had heard that her father may have despised her, he instinctively moved to comfort her. There was no debate, his body just moved. And now with her in his arms, he felt some of his sadness and anger washing away.

"Húrin, I have first watch, you need to rest. We will need all our strength for tomorrow."

Reluctantly he unwrapped his arms from around her as she sniffled and wiped her face. Silently they walked next to one another back to camp. Legolas kept his eyes on her as she wrapped her arms around herself, trying to hide evidence of her earlier tears.

"Legolas! Húrin!" Mithrandir called in a muted shout. "Come, have some _lembas [bread for travel]_. We need to convene before we sleep for the night."

The two arrived to find a circle of elves and one wizard, chewing quietly on lembas. In the middle, a diagram of their party in a new formation was drawn in the dirt. Elrohir's eyes watched the two elves come into camp, his eyes fixed on Húrin. They narrowed as he took in the slightly puffy rims around her eyes and redness beneath her nose.

"Húrin, did you have anything to report? Glorfindel did not feel the presence of any hordes of orcs or spiders." Elladan asked, standing in the center of the circle. Húrin thought he looked absolutely exhausted.

 _He must not be used to running through the trees and he did not have me to aid him._ She guessed.

"I have nothing to report. There were no dark creatures that I, or the trees around us encountered in recent days."

Elladan turned back to the diagram on the ground. "Then we shall proceed as we planned. We shall send our horses away when we come within 500 meters. Húrin and Legolas, though you are taking the front, I want you to proceed with great caution as we near Amon Lanc. As soon as our horses are sent away we shall proceed at a walking pace or slower. Report all to Glorfindel as it occurs Húrin."

She nodded in affirmation as she opened a _lembas_ and began devouring it. A small chuckle made her whip her head to her right.

Legolas tried to hide his smirk behind his own _lembas_ , but he could not stop the shaking of his shoulders.

Frowning in disapproval, Húrin gave him a small shove, which only served to encourage his laughter.

They both stopped when they realized that Glorfindel was watching them intently.

Righting themselves, they ate the rest of their bread in silence, careful not to look at the other.

After the briefing, all went to find a piece of ground to slumber on as per Elrohir's instructions. Some even chose to don the orc clothing early and went to bed trying to breathe through their mouths to avoid the stench of the foul creatures.

Legolas, having to take the first watch, decided to take to the canopy, giving himself a better vantage point.

Being alert was not an issue, there were many thoughts that swirled around in his head that kept him from sleep. The words of Arwen in particular made his confusion about Húrin only grow.

Also hearing of what became of her mother echoed in his mind.

 _It is little wonder that she did not weep for her father. She was smothered by her nanneth [mother], and then estranged from her ada [father] before they even had a chance to know one another._ He thought.

 _Perhaps my own ada weeps when he see me as well._

The thought gave him hope. For his father was strong, and though Legolas would never admit it, he looked up to him, longing for a real relationship with the Great King of the Woodland Realm.

He scoffed audibly. _Or I am insignificant and a bother to him._

The time passed quickly as he continued to try and make sense of all he had learned that day.

Suddenly, he shot up, hearing a rustling from down below. His eyes having adjusted to the darkness, clearly saw a figure rise from the ground, and look straight into the tree where he sat.

L _egolas, it is my turn for watch. You should rest now._

Glorfindel's voice rang quietly in his mind, though he wasn't quite sure if he wanted to sleep just yet. Sensing this, the form that had risen from the ground walked to the base of Legolas's tree and vaulted up into a branch near him.

Y _ou wish to speak?_ Glorfindel asked gently.

Nodding, Legolas leaned forward from his perch. _Yes, I have a few questions regarding Hurin._

 _She shared the story of her mother with you then?_

 _She did._

Glorfindel paused for a moment, staring off into the stars. _What would you like to know?_

 _First, is she truly unable to hear the_ _glîr_ _in other elves? Or is she mentally blocking herself?_

 _A good question. I am not entirely sure of the answer myself. But should you hear her glir, it is muted, quieter than an elf's should be. It is as though she has muffled her own song. The only time that I have heard it grow in spirit…_ Glorfindel looked away from the stars to turn to Legolas. . _..is around you._

He turned to look back up at the night sky. _It is very possible that Hurin has somehow blocked her own abilities. The mind is powerful, as is fear._

 _Second, how could Galadriel not intervene when Hurin suffered so much at the hands of her parents? She was obviously aware of the situation she was leaving an elfling in._

 _Legolas, you should already know the answer that you seek. Families are sacred among the Eldar. To split apart a family that chooses to stay together is nearly as severe as kin slaying. When Methedras made his choice, Galadriel knew she had to respect it._

Legolas felt himself clench his fists. _It does not seem right._

Glorfindel sighed. _No, it does not. But there are many things that happen in this world that are not right. All the less if one is able to recognize it and change the course of a wrong. It takes great discernment and wisdom to heal injustices._

Legolas nodded, knowing exactly just how much an injustice could cost of oneself.

 _You should really get some rest young princeling. Your father will have my head if you are not returned to Eryn Galen whole._

Satisfied for the moment, Legolas climbed down the tree, identified Hurin among the slumbering piles of elves and quickly fell asleep at her side.

oo00oo

* * *

The next day they all donned the odorous orc gear. Legolas and Húrin moved experimentally to see how it would work, swinging through the trees without jangling. After a lot of trial and error, they found that using loose strips of leather, they could tie almost everything down into place so that their movements would not be hindered and they could move silently.

Elladan moved stiffly that morning, not for the first time regretting to being Glorfindel's guard.

"...can take down a balrog single-handedly, doesn't need me, why in Elbereth's name should I…" Or variations of similar sentiments could be heard by any who happened to walk by the grumpy elf.

They soon mobilized and began making their way again to Amon Lanc, a complaining elf in tow.

As they came closer and closer, the density of trees increased, darkening the forest, making it seem enclosed. An evil stink descended on the group.

Suddenly, Húrin halted. Speaking clearly into Legolas's mind.

 _There is a party of orcs moving to the northwest of us. I count...23 of them, armed._

Legolas looked down and saw nothing. All was quiet.

But then...his ears twitched as they picked up a sound that he had heard many times before in his patrols. The unmistakable clamor of an orc horde. In his mind he could see their gnarled and grotesque faces leering at him. Laughing over the body of his mother.

His grip tightened around his long mithril knives, as his vision began to fade to red. Shaking, he prepared to launch himself down upon them, unleashing a whirlwind of mithril and blood, when a firm hand clasped his arm.

He looked over to see that Hurin had grabbed him, she looked at him pleadingly, face full of concern, her green eyes piercing through the haze of anger. For a moment, he had control over himself again. But then the dark haze began to close in around him as the sounds of the horde drew nearer, louder, mocking him.

Drawing closer to him, Húrin gently brought a hand up to cup his cheek, her ability no longer kept in check, flowing through him. The aching, raging song of his heart quivered beneath the torrent of the Music.

Keeping his eyes on her face, he took a deep breath, exhaling slowly.

 _I am in your debt Húrin._ He took another deep breath. _I am myself now._

With sad eyes, still full of worry, she drew back. Her eyes stayed on him until she came to the end of her branch. Then turning, she leapt forward without turning back.

After their initial run in, Húrin stopped the party multiple times, signaling groups of orcs or goblins on their right or left. Once she took the group in almost a complete circle to avoid a large nest of spiders much to the chagrin of Elladan. Legolas remained calm through all of her reports of the detestable beasts, sometimes taking her hand for added strength.

Finally, they arrived within 500 meters of the open clearing of Amon Lanc. The riders, save for Mithrandir, dismissed their horses, whispering instructions for them to stay out of sight and await their return. The other woodland elves took to the branches, nimbly melting into the trees. The wizard chose to remain riding, though he held his staff at the forefront and whispered words of caution to his mount.

Húrin proceeded cautiously, every movement slow and deliberate. They went unnoticed, though several groups of orcs moved underneath them. The closer they came, the more the foul stench of the creatures wafted up and filled the senses of the elves.

They reached the edge of the clearing without incident. This was where Elrohir's plan became much more hazy. Glorfindel and Húrin were to dart into the abandoned palace, clearing every checkpoint first using their sensitivity to guards, Legolas and Elladan, were to stick by them. Communication in the mind was crucial to the stealth needed for this plan to work. The rest of the guard would follow in small groups of two, Elrohir at the head with Lalaith, another member of the guard.

 _Shall we move in?_ Legolas asked once the last patrol of orcs were out of sight.

Húrin looked over at him and gave a short nod before launching out of the trees, landing in a roll which landed her on her feet. Legolas leapt just a moment after, quickly coming up at a run at her side. They took shelter on the sides of a grand open doorway, heavily ornamented with elvish style inscriptions.

Legolas watched over Húrin as she closed her eyes, concentrating, undoubtedly scanning for glir. Without the aid of the trees as eyes, she would have to scan for them directly, seeking out songs as opposed to looking through a familiar mind. It slowly dawned on Legolas, that this may have been a bad idea.

After a long second, Húrin opened her eyes, her brow already slightly damp from the exertion. A quick incline of her head signaled to him that they were clear to move into the doorway. Quickly, keeping low, they entered the abandoned capital.

oo00oo

* * *

 **Thanks for reading everyone! I revealed a good amount of the stuff that I've been building up to! 100,000 words and they finally sorta kinda like each other haha. Leave me a review if you enjoyed it, or if you just want to say hi! Love you all (: Will try to have the next chapter up soon...ehehe**


	11. Chapter 9: Muted Song (Pt 2)

**A/N: Hey guys! This is the first time the next chapter is shorter than the previous one. I've realized I'm not so good at writing action scenes. I can see it in my head, but getting it down in an understandable way without losing momentum is so hard -_-. As always, I hope you enjoy it!**

 _Dramatis Personae_

Legolas/princeling - son of King Thranduil (86 yo)

Hurin/aew - daughter of Methedras, singer of the trees (83 yo)

King Thranduil - Ruler of Eryn Galen (age unknown)

Mithrandir/Olorin - One of the 5 Maiar sent by the Ainur (sent in the TA)

Glorfindel - Reincarnated elf with great (unknown) powers, was a great warrior in the FA, sent by the Ainur in 1600 SA

Cuthalion - Great bowman of the guard in Eryn Galen, training Legolas (2365 yo)

Elladan - son of Elrond, on loan to King Thranduil (970 yo)

Elrohir - son of Elrond, on loan to King Thranduil (970 yo)

Arwen Undomiel - daughter of Lord Elrond (658 yo)

Lalaith - member of the Woodland guard (1694 yo)

Faelwen - member of the Woodland guard (1139 yo)

Edegil - horse of Hurin (longer life than a regular horse because of superior breeding)

Noldor - horse of Elladan *see above for age

oo00oo

* * *

 ** _1100 of the third age  
The fortress in Amon Lanc_**

 _Húrin_ , _how are you faring?_

Legolas looked over at his companion with concern. They were crouched down, about arms width apart deep in the heart of the abandoned palace in Amon Lanc.

Húrin looked exhausted, her face was contorted with concentration and sweat dropped in beads down her face.

 _I am well._

Even through their link, Legolas could feel the strain in Húrin's mind. Her answer had been the same every time he checked in, but he found himself believing her assurances less and less.

The work was extremely tedious. Húrin remembered all too well what happened last time she had let her guard down. It was absolutely imperative that she stay on high alert every moment that they were within the the enemy halls. They could be crouched for only moments, or for what seemed like hours. Whether she would admit it or not, Legolas could tell that Húrin was wearing down.

 _Go!_

In an instant they were on their feet again, stepping lightly and swiftly down yet another corridor, Legolas as closely behind Húrin as her shadow. Turning a corner, they continued to the edge of a doorway and took cover on either side of it.

 _We are close._ Húrin voiced in her mind.

He nodded in response, another shot of adrenaline kicking in as he straightened against the wall.

He looked over at Húrin again, and noticed that there was not just fatigue apparent on her face, but it seemed as though she were in pain.

 _Húrin._ He called out, leveling his gaze at her with gravity. _What ails you? Do not say that you are well. Your face speaks plainly a different story._

She did not turn to look at him, eyes still trained forward as she scanned the area for glir.

 _As we grow closer, it becomes…_ The voice in her mind was strained to the point where it seemed as though she were struggling to speak. _...suffocating. There is a great darkness. It-it is becoming m-more difficult to concentrate._

Legolas drew his dark brows together in displeasure. He felt absolutely helpless. Not only was this poor news for their mission, but with all that happened in the last few days, he felt a strange need to protect her. He had this strong inexplicable urge to reach out and touch her, for he now knew how much she could be affected by another's skin contact.

However, not wanting to distract her and make concentrating even more difficult, he clasped his hands together so he wouldn't do anything he would regret.

 _Should you let Glorfindel advance farther than us? You know that he bears little weight in finding the glir of others._ Legolas suggested lightly.

Still facing forward, Húrin shook her head. _Glorfindel has taken another route to the center. He is coordinating all of the guard members, and is aware of all that is going through our minds._ She paused to rest her speech for a moment. _He has commanded half of the guard to trail us, while the other half trails him. Should we stall for unnecessary reasons, we put the guard who follows us at risk._

Húrin breathed deeply, and stopped to wipe the sweat from her brow. _Besides, he knows all that goes on in our minds at present. If he truly thought this was something I c-couldn't handle…_ She paused again grimacing as though pain were shooting through her. ... _he would have already intervened._

Not wanting to force Húrin to speak in her mind anymore, Legolas kept his thoughts of displeasure to himself.

 _Go!_ Húrin commanded.

And just like that they were off again, moving stealthily near now to the throne room, the heart of the palace. Outside the doors, Húrin froze.

 _What is it?_ Legolas whispered into her mind.

 _Someone is approaching, I believe it to be Elrohir and another of the guard, but I am not entirely sure._

Legolas immediately placed his hands on his twin mithril knives and crouched low into a defensive position in front of Húrin. Unlike Glorfindel, without the trees to protect her, Húrin was quite helpless, and Legolas knew it.

From around the bend, Elrohir and Lalaith seemed to suddenly appear as from thin air. The two well practiced Eldar moved with absolute silence and deadly swiftness towards them. Legolas quickly rose from his stance, and greeted the others heartily.

They exchanged meaningful glances as Elrohir gestured towards the door questioningly. Húrin nodded solemnly. It was the place that they sought to gain answers from.

 _Do not enter until I arrive._ The stern voice of Glorfindel reverberated in their minds as they approached the throne room door.

Legolas suppressed a huff of frustration, though he did manage to still roll his eyes, noiselessly conveying his disapproval. He began to silently pace, feeling a bit like a caged animal in the middle of a hostile jungle.

Elrohir did a quick check of his surroundings before approaching Legolas and giving him a once over, much to the prince's annoyance.

He then turned to Húrin.

His lips parted slightly as he took in her exhausted state. Húrin was leaning against the wall, pale as a sheet, and drenched in sweat. He quickly closed the space between them and began inspecting her armor and gear.

Lalaith, a young elf, but very gifted in combat looked at Elrohir and Húrin with disgust. Derision was plain in the sneer on her face that she thought her weak.

Legolas watched with disdain at the scene. If Elladan could not be trusted around Húrin, then Elrohir could be even less so. At least Elladan was upfront with his desires. Elrohir always seemed to be more polite on the surface than he really was underneath. He did not like the way that Elrohir looked at her…

And then Elrohir crossed the line.

The bare skin of his hand cupped Húrin's chin as he slowly moved her head left to right, silently checking for injury. Legolas could barely stop himself from snarling as he watched him touch her.

 _Touch is so powerful for her._ Legolas thought viciously. _I was the one assigned to protect her, does he doubt me!? He has no reason to touch her!_

Húrin was oblivious to all this, barely being able to stay conscious as she leaned against the wall.

Just as Legolas was about to do something that he would regret, they heard a terrible screech from outside.

All eyes widened. Every ear knew what they screech was.

A fell beast had just flown overhead, likely with a Nazgûl atop it.

 _We cannot stay here!_ _Nazg_ _ûl's track through the unseen world! They will know that I am here immediately. Retreat now!_ Came Glorfindel's hurried voice.

Immediately, Legolas and Elrohir both looked back at Húrin. She was in no state to run. They both made a move to pick her up. However, Elrohir was closer and easily placed her atop his back.

Legolas scowled at Elrohir for a second, even venturing a violent whisper, "She is my partner to protect. I will take her. You worry about Lalaith."

Elrohir looked at the prince with confused frustration for a moment and then continued to run as though Legolas had not even spoken.

Cursing under his breath, Legolas followed after, taking the rear and keeping alert for any orcs that came up behind.

Without anyone scouting ahead for enemies, they were running blind. Not that an elf is not without great skills in perception, but they had come to rely on Glorfindel and Húrin's abilities. If they ran into a party of orcs or goblins, they were going to have to engage, there was no way to avoid at the speed they moved at.

Húrin, as they got farther and farther from the center of Amon Lanc, seemed to improve. Color returned to her face, and without constantly having to be glir sensitive, she rapidly felt more and more coherent. With a start, she realized that she was being carried. Her immediate reaction was one of panic.

" _Pe-channas! [Idiot!]_ " Lalaith muttered louder than was meant, as Húrin struggled to free herself from Elrohir's arms.

Her whisper seemed to bounce down the halls, carrying much farther than Lalaith thought it would. Elrohir, Legolas, and Húrin all turned to her, breaking stride for a moment. Húrin, looked around, finally registering just who was carrying her.

With growing horror, Húrin realized what Lalaith had just done. She had uttered aloud an elven word in the middle of an orc fortress. Ashamed at being carried and outraged at herself, she quickly wrenched herself free of Elrohir's arms and began sprinting forward.

The other three elves scrambled after her, now hearing orc shouts in the distance that were coming nearer.

" _Noro! [Run!]"_ , shouted Elrohir, all attempts at stealth abandoned.

Legolas sprinted after Húrin with an increased fervor.

 _The fool! She does not know how to fight, if she is in the front, she will be the first to run into the orcs!_ He thought, forcing his legs to move faster. He thought about projecting his thought to her, but decided against it, considering how much glir had drained her.

They raced through the corridors, just keeping Húrin in sight.

The party quickly realized that Húrin was not leading them in any particular direction, but was merely using the heightened senses of an elf to run away from the direction of any orc parties she could detect.

Without her glir, or stealth, it became clear to everyone that they were becoming more and more lost and less and less likely to make it out.

" Húrin!" Elrohir shouted.

She did not stop. Survival instinct had kicked in, and she was wildly looking about as one trapped in a maze.

" Húrin!" He shouted again, command coloring his voice.

Still she did not stop.

Desperate now, Elrohir shouted back to Legolas. "Legolas! Do something! We must make her stop!"

Determined, Legolas projected towards her glir as hard as he could muster.

 _Húrin! Stop!_

She froze instantly, the voice of Legolas breaking through the haze of panic and urgency. Turning back, she saw Legolas's worried face as he came up to her.

Eyes still wide, she took Legolas's hand.

 _I am in way over my head Legolas._ She thought worriedly. _I am of no use here._

Before he could respond however, the others caught up with them and Elrohir lost no time in explaining the situation and his solution.

"Húrin, you are the only one who can figure out how to get out of here. I need you to stop and focus. If we are delayed here then the three of us will handle any orcs that come our way. It is futile to continue to run through these halls, if it is not in the way of escaping."

Húrin was already shaking her head. "I do not know if I can! I may be able to sense the minds of orcs, but I cannot read them. They are too dissident to the melodies I have come to know. I can only make contact with our allies, and I do not think they can help us find our way out."

Pursing his lips, Elrohir continued to look at Húrin with a great intensity. "You will have to try. We have no other options."

Lalaith huffed, on the verge of losing her temper again. Though this time she held her tongue.

Húrin looked at Elrohir for a moment, wishing that he had not spoken of her as the only hope.

Seeing no other way, she conceded with a nervous short nod and walked to the most secure part of the hallway, away from the corners, with her back against the wall.

Legolas walked with her.

"No matter what you hear, or what you see, you must concentrate on getting out and only on that. We will keep you safe for as long as you need, but you cannot worry about us. Do you understand?"

Nodding again, she squeezed his hand, not wishing for him to go.

"I know you have greater power than you are willing to use. Do not be afraid. We are depending on you." He said with meaning, leveling her with his stare.

The grey of his eyes again accused her of cowardice, though his lips would not utter the words. He then let go of her hand and took up position at the end of one of the halls, listening for danger. Elrohir was likewise at the other end, while Lalaith stood midway, able to assist in whatever direction seemed to be overwhelmed.

Determined and still very much afraid, she sank down into a cross legged pose and closed her eyes. She had a few ideas. If there were enough orcs in the halls, she may be able to determine paths, like following a trail of ants out. If they were indeed in packs instead of in a long line then things were going to be much more difficult.

Her only other option was to contact Glorfindel. It surprised her that he had not already reached out to the members of her party, considering that she was in great mental distress. Her only conclusion was that he was preoccupied with the Nazgûl outside, which worried her even more.

Focusing, she allowed the dark to block out her other senses, using only the songs of the mind to pierce through. Listening for orc minds was not only difficult, but unpleasant, like searching through a bag of potatoes, smelling for the rotten one. Soon enough, the discordant songs of orcs and goblins filled her mind.

She fought to control the rising feeling of alarm as she quickly judged all of the creatures to be in packs, not lines. The locations of the minds gave no clear map of the palace, nor a way to exit. Of even greater concern was that there were several hordes coming their direction with a speed that could only mean one thing.

They were being hunted.

Without opening her eyes she yelled out, " _No dirweg! [Be careful!]_ They are coming!"

Her warning was met with a growl from Legolas, "Húrin! I told you to concentrate! Do not doubt us!"

Wincing at the slight scolding, she began to search for Glorfindel. Such a bright, powerful, and also familiar mind was generally easy for her to find.

She heard the song of his heart almost immediately.

 _Glorfindel! We are deep within the palace, we do not know which way to get out! In order to avoid orc hordes on the way out, we were forced from our original way of entry._

 _Húrin! We are a little-_ Glorfindel suddenly cut off. _-occupied with the-_ He stopped again abruptly. _-fell beast outside. The Nazg_ _ûl will not come near me for fear of me. But the foul beast-_ Another break. _-has not the same caution._

There was a long pause during which Húrin held her breath.

 _I have given charge over for a moment, so that there will be no more interruptions. The only person who could seek you out successfully in the palace is me, and I must stay here to keep the Nazg_ _ûl at bay. You must try to find your way out on your own_ _Húrin. You must ascertain the layout of the palace from the mind of an orc. I know you can do this. Now go. I can delay with you no longer._

Húrin's eyes flew open as she came back to her place in the hallway. Immediately she was greeted by the sounds of flesh against mithril, the flying of arrows, and the gutteral cries uttered by those in the act of embracing the cold hand of death.

She looked around to see Elrohir about 20 feet to her right, fighting a band of all manner of evil creatures. His grim expression gave nothing away as he effortlessly danced in and out of their crude weapons, trading their missed swings for deadly aim on his own part.

Turning to her left, she saw Legolas about 15 feet away slashing with deadly efficiency. Not a single movement was wasted. Every stroke was to a major artery or to the neck. With each wave of his arm, at least 2 orcs fell. To her horror, she also realized that he was smiling gleefully, as the blood that pooled around him grew, and began to lay thick on his clothes. She was so distracted that for a moment, she forgot her purpose.

It was not until Lalaith noticed her awareness that she came back to herself.

"Húrin! What news do you have? Tell me that you know how to get out of here!" She yelled above the clamor as the threaded arrow after arrow, switching between shooting at enemies in front of Elrohir to the right and in front of Legolas to the left.

"Lalaith! We must capture one of the orcs alive. It is the only way to ascertain the way of escape!" Húrin shouted.

Lalaith, without even a nod in acknowledgement strode forward towards Legolas, still firing as she approached the fighting.

"Legolas! We must take one alive!" She yelled.

But Legolas was beyond hearing.

He had entered into the place where all that he could see before his eyes was red and every orc was the murderous scum that had brutally killed his mother.

Lalaith had fought alongside Legolas before, and knowing him to be beyond reach, she retreated, deciding instead to recruit Elrohir's help.

"Húrin! Tell Elrohir what you have told me!" Lalaith cried, moving slowly back to the middle of the hallway.

Húrin looked over at Lalaith before turning towards Elrohir. She tried to block the noise from her ears and the sickening smell of death that was already rank in the halls. It made her dizzy, petrified, and only reminded her of her failure in saving Legolas's mother. Her knees felt weak as she tried to move her legs toward the Elf Captain.

" _We are depending you."_

Legolas's voice and accusations rang in her mind.

 _I do not keep company with cowards._

One foot and then the other. The words repeated over and over in her mind as she made her body move towards the fighting.

"Elrohir! I need to take one alive." She shouted at his back as he continued to parry and slice.

" _Naw! [May it be so!]",_ he acknowledged.

He powered forward into the clamor, driving through one orc with his sword, and then swinging round to the right, using the flat of his sword to swing the orc around, still impaled on his blade. Elrohir ended the swing 180 degrees behind him so that the point was facing Húrin. As he stopped the motion, the orc flew off of the blade, landing squarely at Húrin's feet. The wound, though fatal, Húrin could tell was not through the heart or lungs, giving her just enough time to interrogate it before it died.

Holding back a retch, Húrin fought her instinct to back away as eyes nearing death stared vacantly up at her.

Taking a deep breath, she crouched down, touching her fingers to the orc's forehead. Closing her eyes, she tried to force a connection between herself and the orc just as she had done in the forest with Legolas. The orc fought, mentally, unwilling to allow any such connection to exist. Sweat again began to develop on Húrin's brow as she struggled. Even if the orc had been willing, it was not easy for her to access abilities that she had shoved down so deeply.

Thankfully, the orc was weak of mind, and growing weaker by the second as its life dimmed. Forcing her way in, Húrin began to sift through bits and pieces of broken song, looking for information on the palace. Mercifully, there was not a whole lot of things to sift through, and soon she thought she found the orc's knowledge of the palace. As she began to delve into the bit of knowledge and fully disentangle the thought, she suddenly became aware of a growing cold. An evil in these thoughts. It was not the orc itself, it was something much darker.

Her connection to the orc and the fervor in which she was struggling to maintain it, made the cold spread to her quickly. She quickly recognized it as the suffocating presence that had been behind the throne room doors. It rapidly spread from the orc through her fingers up into her own mind, throwing her head back as pain convulsed through her entire being. She could not keep a cry of pain from erupting from her throat as agony gripped her, physically, mentally, and even her emotions fell prey to the darkness, despair coloring her situation.

She became vaguely aware of Elrohir turning back towards her in concern and saw his lips crying her name, shoving dead bodies in the way of the unending horde so that he may reach her.

But all that she could hear was a dark voice, each syllable a rasping, painful hiss that grated in her ears.

 _Ash nazg durbatulûk._

Everything around her seemed to be happening in slow motion. And though the pain was great, she refused to pass out again.

 _Ash nazg gimbatul,_

This would not be like the last time, she kept telling herself. She would be useful this time. But the voice, though it ground against her mind, it also seemed alluring in a way, calling her. It was seductive.

 _Ash nazg thrakatulûk,_

She lazily blinked, and in that moment saw an orc raise a crossbow from behind the wall of bodies. It was aimed at Elrohir's back.

 _How strange._ She thought sluggishly. _I want to hear more of the voice._

 _Agh burzum-ishi krimpatu._

The searing pain grew to a new height as a laugh replaced the strange words. Húrin squeezed her eyes shut as it threatened to take control of her whole body. Every nerve, every fiber was alive with fire, as though it had been injected into her veins. The torment helped to clear her mind enough to know that this was something she should be fighting. Images of a golden ring with no stones, tens of thousands of troops in the land of Mordor all in formation, and a white wizard all flashed hot in her mind as she struggled against giving into the darkness that threatened to overtake her.

Rallying as much as she could, she knew she needed to concentrate on her own glir, the song of her own heart. She thought of the Music of Ainur, of all the meditations and glorious songs she had heard from Glorfindel. She warred against this relentless invasion. Still reaching deeper, she thought of the times she was the happiest. When she had first created her connection the Legolas, the touch of his hand, the steel in his eyes, the feeling of dancing with him. The heat began to subside, and her mind stopped the flashing of images that she knew were not her own. A throaty, rasping chuckle reverberated in her head.

 _Mmm, a most interesting elfling indeed. Be careful my dear, this is a war you do not want to get involved in. Tell the prince that your mind has shown me and Glorfindel, that I hope we all meet soon. I will be keeping my eye out for all of you._

And with a parting laugh suddenly all was clear before her as the cold and pain lifted. But a new pain was awaiting her.

She awoke to the cries of Lalaith, standing over Elrohir, covered in blood as she dispatched the last of the orcs. In front of her, Legolas's face suddenly became coherent.

"Húrin! Húrin! Come back to us! Húrin!" He exclaimed wildly as he shook her by the shoulders.

Clearing her head with a shake, she shot up from her kneeling position.

"What has happened?! Elrohir? Is he well?"

Lalaith shot back a look of utter fury. "He is not! And you are to blame. So weak, you not only can't defend yourself, but you also endanger the lives of others!"

Taking quick stock of their position, Húrin felt the familiarity of it all. Death all around her, friends hurt, only herself to blame. She wanted to curl into a ball and cry. She wanted to let them know that she knew herself to be useless. But this would not help matters. Swallowing every emotion that was even tinged with despair or self-pity, she allowed her mind to reset.

She knew what she had to do.

Húrin ran to kneel beside Elrohir. The wound was deep, though not deep enough to warrant the kind of blood loss she saw around him. With a start, she shot back up.

"Did you remove the arrow from his back?" She leveled her gaze at Lalaith, her voice stern, face unmoving.

"I did what I coul-" Lalaith shot back.

"Did you remove the arrow from his back?" Húrin asked again, struggling to keep her voice calm.

"The arrow was certainly poiso-" Lalaith reasoned hotly stepping forward.

"Did YOU remove the arrow from his back?!"

"This is all because YOU-" Lalaith yelled, tears threatening as she stuck a finger in Húrin's face.

"DID YOU REMOVE THE ARROW FROM HIS BACK?!" Húrin shouted, not wavering from her spot.

They stood like that for a moment, both of them challenging the other to stand down.

Húrin looked at Lalaith's face as her anger gave way to guilt and sorrow, her sneer crumbling.

"I did. I could not bear to see it sticking out of his back. It looked to be the mark of a coward. Elrohir did not deserve the shame of being shot in the back." She confessed, her head hanging low.

Húrin shook her head and knelt down next to Elrohir again and began reexamining the wound. "You will be pleased to know that your concern for his pride has put him out of consciousness and turned a flesh wound perhaps into a fatal one. It will now be difficult to move him."

Lalaith continued to stare at the ground, wet drops making their way down her face.

Legolas walked up to her, handing her a handful of bloody arrows.

"These were the ones I was able to retrieve." He stated, and then brushed past her towards Húrin. "We must go, this place will not be safe for long."

Húrin nodded, though her brow was still creased with concern. "I believe I now know the way out. But, as I said, moving Elrohir will be difficult. I will bind the wound as best I can for now, and then considering that I am the least useful in a fight, I should carry him."

Lalaith and Legolas both opened their mouths to protest, but Húrin held up a hand.

"You know I am right. I may not be an adequate fighter, but I am still strong. Legolas, you take the lead, Lalaith, you cover the rear. I will direct you Legolas."

Taking Elrohir's left arm in her right, she looped her other arm between his legs so that his head lay in front of her right shoulder and his legs hung down on her left.

"Let's go."

* * *

oo00oo

Legolas ran down the halls, keeping his ears piqued for both Húrin's instructions and the possibility of orc armor jangling their direction. So far they had only run into small packs of 2-3, which were quickly dispatched by either an arrow from Lalaith, or a quick slice of one of his long knives.

They were moving steadily, but not too quickly as Húrin could not move as fast with Elrohir on her back.

Legolas scowled at the thought. He knew it was unreasonable, but he did not like the idea of her carrying him, or caring for him. His vision flashed back to when Elrohir had openly touched her chin, so gently.

He shuddered, ridding himself of the image.

Around the next corner, he could scarcely believe his eyes, for he could see the outside. Though it had only been a few hours, he felt as though they had been trapped in Amon Lanc for an eternity.

He rushed to the opening before crouching against the doorframe. He could not hear any of the sounds of conflict, though he did a quick sweep with his eyes of both the ground and the sky.

 _It is safe. Go. Our allies are in the trees at the edge of the forest waiting for us. They already have sent for the horses, and once we have put some distance, we will make camp to tend to our wounded._

Legolas suppressed the urge to look back at Húrin out of surprise. She spoke with authority, and not only that but without strain into his mind without invitation.

He sprinted across the field, stopping midway to look back and usher the two _elleth_ across the open field. When they had passed him, he followed after, watching their retreat.

For a moment, in the open doorway, he thought he saw a black robed figure, hooded, with so much armor that his face could not be made out. All Legolas could see was a leering smile, unnaturally thin lips drawn back over yellowing teeth. And then he was gone. Legolas blinked, but there was nothing in the doorway.

 _Perhaps I imagined it_. He thought. Though truly, that smile wasn't one he was about to forget.

Moments later they were all on horseback, Elladan carefully cradling the body of his brother, worry written on his face as he urged Noldor to higher speeds.

Legolas watched Húrin closely, she looked calmer than he had ever seen her. He had been anticipating her going into shock as he had heard she always did now when in close proximity to battle. Her eyes were trained on Elrohir, as she confidently guided Edegil through the forest. She just seemed...different. He almost hoped for her to look in her direction so that he may see the change in her eyes, but she did not take her gaze off of Elrohir, which irked him more than he had anticipated.

After an hour of hard riding, all dismounted or helped down the wounded. Out of the 15, 10 were in good health while 3 had some flesh wounds and 2 were in grave condition.

Elrohir and the other elf, whose name was Faelwen, were laid on pallets and immediately hovered over by Glorfindel and Húrin.

Elladan also stayed near though he was no help, he would hand Húrin or Glorfindel things upon instruction. Lalaith was also nearby, though she looked like she was trying to keep her presence from being too obvious.

Mithrandir walked up beside Legolas as he looked on.

"I believe after the events of today, Amon Lanc is now more aptly, _Dol Guldur [hill of sorcery]_. There is a greater darkness lurking there than either I or Elladan wagered." He commented.

"Aye," remarked Legolas, "Húrin got the worst of it. We lost her again for a moment when we were inside."

Mithrandir reached up to stroke his beard. "Is that so? How do you know this?"

"She cried out when she tried to ascertain how to escape from a dying orc. Then she went into convulsions nearly passing out and when she woke up, she was…" Legolas tried to put a word to what he had seen occur, "...changed."

Turning towards Legolas, with clear interest, Mithrandir raised a wizened eyebrow, "How so?"

Sighing, Legolas kept his eyes on the healers, "I do not rightly know. I have not had a chance to speak with her."

"Interesting…" The wizard mused.

In time, Glorfindel and Húrin retired to the now roaring fire, and all except Elladan sat somberly around the flames. No words were spoken, and the only noise was that of munching on _lembas_.

Finally, Elladan came over, flat and weary.

"We will wait to fully debrief when we arrive back in the Halls of the Elvenking. Rest now. You may retire when you like, I will take first watch."

He then slowly walked back to his brother's side and sat as one in a trance.

Looking with intention at Húrin, Legolas sent her his thoughts.

 _I wish to speak with you. Are you very weary?_

 _I am. But I also wish to speak with you._ She paused, considering for a moment, then she sent him a mental image of a large oak 100 meters west of their camp with large branches wide enough for them to both sit comfortably. _Agreed?_

 _I shall see you there._

* * *

oo00oo

Legolas arrived just as the last stars were peeking out of the darkness. He could not see Húrin, but he could sense she was there.

As soon as he landed on the branch, he saw what looked like a cascade of silver tumble down soundlessly onto the branch in front of him.

"Húrin." He breathed. The moon illuminated her figure, just catching her stray hairs, making them glow. The light was soft, making the natural glow of the Eldar highlight the smoothness of her face, the frost of her eyelashes, and the green green gleam of her jewel-like eyes.

She stood, head erect, poised in a the way of a mature she-elf. In short, a vision to Legolas's eyes. Though she wore tattered battle armor, she was almost as beautiful to him as Arwen in that moment.

"Legolas." She said in greeting, moving forward for an embrace, but when he did not move staring blankly ahead, she halted her advance and sat instead.

Realizing that he had been openly staring, Legolas moved to take a seat across for Húrin.

"Please." She said gravely, closing her eyes. "Let me begin first."

"As you wish."

"I first wanted to apologize." She said, unblinkingly. "You were correct. I am a coward."

Shaking his head, "Húrin, no I-"

She closed her eyes and raised her hand, "Let me finish."

He sighed, not sure if he would at all like what she had to say.

"I have wavered, I have been weak. I have allowed others to make decisions for me, shrinking from responsibility. I fear blame and ruin so greatly that I have allowed these feelings to guide my actions, or I suppose, inactions."

She took a deep shuddering breath, "I know Elrohir's wounds to have been my fault, the injuries to your mother, inexcusable. I own to all of it."

Her next breath was shaky, a sob clearly suppressed in it. "This is the last time I shall cry in front of you, Legolas. To that, I make an absolute promise. I will be stronger, I will take charge when I need to. I will no longer allow indecision and fear to rule my heart. Had I embraced my abilities from the beginning, everything would be different."

She opened her eyes, staring at him directly, watery green pools that melted his heart to its core. "I make this apology to you first, as a testament to my resolution. And…" A tear slipped out. "...because it is you that I have hurt the most."

She sniffled, seeming to rally herself. "That being said, I have now seen your rage firsthand. I will fight, I will become stronger, but to protect. Not to harm. I want to make that clear right now."

Legolas winced. He had never seen himself when he entered battle, but from the looks he had received from the other of the Woodland guard, he knew of what she spoke. He was a monster. A monster is needed to battle other monsters he had reasoned to himself, but now staring into Húrin's face, he only felt shame.

"I do not know how to separate my feelings of protection from the feelings of rage." He confessed. "There are times where I know myself not."

Húrin sighed again. "Your rage stems from a feeling of injustice in which you could not have done anything to differ the situation. She was taken from you thought no fault of your own. It was my doing. I am at fault. The way to let go of the rage is..." she paused, and for a moment she looked like the scared vulnerable Húrin that he had always known. "...to forgive me."

"You did not kill her Húrin, wretched orcs did, and I cannot forgive them." Legolas answered sternly.

"I left her at the mercy of creatures who were only acting according to their nature. It is as that time I left that bread too long in the oven. You cannot blame the oven for burning the bread, the fault was, or rather is, mine."

He considered that for a moment, staring up into the stars. "I have said that I want to. I truly mean it. I think...it will just take time."

Húrin nodded, turning so that they were now sitting side-by-side staring up together. "I can give you that."

He looked over at her, delicate and yet strong. So powerful, and yet so vulnerable. He placed his hand on top of hers as it rested on the bark of the branch. "Thank you."

A comfortable moment slipped between them before either of them spoke again.

"Should I abandon patrols as I learn to control my rage?" Legolas speculated. "Upon examining myself, I think it is triggered by being around orcs, or perhaps the visceral response of any elf body placed in direct threat."

"Hmm…" Húrin thought for a time. "Perhaps you could simply learn a new weapon. I know your father to have given you a beautiful bow. Why do you not bring it on patrols?"

Legolas half frowned, looking away. "I just don't prefer it." He murmured under his breath.

Húrin looked at him quizzically, "It seems as though it would solve all of your problems. I mean, you would be a great distance from your enemies, you are under no bodily threat, in fact-"

"It just wouldn't work!" Legolas huffed, getting rather ruffled now.

"I don't understand. Why wouldn't it work?" Húrin pressed, very confused now.

Legolas bit his lip, and then took a sulky disposition before answering. "Because I'm bad at it." He said sullenly.

Húrin could not stop the giggles that escaped her.

"Oh, he, ahem, that's, hehe, too bad. Bahahaha, perhaps you could, haha, just practice more?" She covered her face with her hand, unsuccessfully suppressing more laughter.

"See!? This is why!" Legolas said indignantly.

"Oh come, you can't be bad as all that." Húrin chided.

"I once accidentally shot Elladan's morning tea out of his hands." Legolas said defeatedly.

"Well it takes a great marksman to do that." She encouraged.

"He wasn't on the archery field."

"Well then you just need to reign in your strength."

"He was behind me."

"An impressive feat!" The giggles beginning to rise up again.

"And then the practice bow snapped and hit Cuthalion in the head."

"Taking out two attackers from behind you! Very ingenious." She continued laughing.

"You mock me!" Legolas said woundedly.

"No, no, no." Húrin assured him, regaining control of herself. "I am often impressed by you Legolas. I have no doubt that should you put your mind to it, you can become a great archer."

Slightly mollified but altogether still wounded, Legolas gave a half smile. "Perhaps I will give it another go then. I have just become so proficient with my mithril knives that it is hard to go back to being a beginner again."

"I know how you feel," Húrin sighed again. "I am going to have to relearn how to use my ability. I have stifled it for so long, it will be like beginning again."

"To new beginnings then." Legolas smiled, turning towards her.

"Indeed." She warmly returned, swiveling her head so that she was also looking at him.

Their faces were but a few inches apart. He could feel her breath against his skin, each wind sending a tingle down his spine.

His eyes darted down to her lips for just a moment, before she flushed and pulled back.

"But it is late, we should be heading back. _Boe i 'waen [I should go]._ Are you not weary?" Húrin said all in a rush.

"Perhaps not as weary as you. I did not have to carry that fat elf all the way out of Dol Guldur." He replied with a smirk.

Húrin, still flushed, gave a little chuckle. "Well I shall leave you then. Good night Legolas."

" _Losto vae [Rest well]_ Húrin." He said softly.

She jumped up as the next branch rose up to meet her, ferrying her along back to the camp, her silvery hair catching moonlight as it danced behind her.

Legolas sat, mulling over Húrin's apology. Could he forgive her? The more time her spent with her, the more the jagged melody in his heart seemed to cry out to be fixed. Now when he thought of her, the first thing to pop into his mind was not betrayal or rage, but the image of her face, warm and laughing or stern and beautiful.

 _The line between love and hate is thinner than we believe._ He thought, remembering what Arwen had said. _Am I drawn to her?_

* * *

oo00oo

The arrival of the scouting party was with little fanfare in the Halls of the Elvenking. Thranduil greeted them heartily but allowed them to rest declaring the debriefing to be held on the next day.

Elrohir was doing much better than all thought he would, though he still was unconscious. They all recognized it now as a healing coma, and sleeping off the effects of the poison that Glorfindel had so effectively counteracted. Color had returned to his skin and with it, Elladan's good temper.

Very tired of _lembas,_ Legolas was greatly looking forward to the dinner that night.

Upon arriving at the banquet hall, he scanned the room for Húrin, hoping to continue to make good on his promise with Glorfindel by staying by her side.

 _No other reasons._ He thought to himself. _I merely mean to keep my word. Yes, I am a prince and an elf of honor. That is reason enough._

He spent the next 15 minutes traversing the whole of the banquet hall in search of her, but could not find her. Finally, he sat down, with a huff.

 _Húrin! Where are you?_ He let the impatience show through in his tone.

 _Oh Legolas! I did not know that you expected me for dinner. I am in the healing rooms with Elladan and Elrohir. Lalaith is here as well. I believe that Elrohir is to awaken soon._

 _Oh…_ He thought dejectedly. _Would you like me to take you all some food?_

 _No, there's food enough here for all of us. I thank you for the thought though Legolas._

Seeing no reason to continue questioning, and now being told outright that he was not wanted there, Legolas closed off his connection with Húrin.

The food in front of him no longer looked as appetizing as it had a moment ago. He chewed and swallowed on what should have been a flavorful, delicious heap of roasted potatoes and cheeses, but it all tasted like sand as it slid uneasily down his throat. Chatter buzzed about him, asking about the scouting mission, telling him of news that occured in the four days that he had been gone. But he took part in none of it, his mind in one place only.

 _Elrohir? She waits for him. Why does that bother me so much?_

He gulped down another bite of whatever was on his fork without so much as looking at what it held. He continued to fume, the company around him realizing that he was not pleasing company and turning to find it elsewhere.

"May I join you? You seem to be alone this evening." A familiar voice penetrated through his melancholy thoughts.

Looking up, he saw Arwen smiling down at him, gesturing to the seat in front of him.

Genuinely smiling, he nodded, granting her request.

"You seem to be rather lost in thought." She commented. "Has it to do with what you found in Amon Lanc?"

"I suppose you could say as much." He replied. "I have often been thinking on your words. About the line between love and hate."

"Mmm, I see." Arwen answered slowly.

"Wait, how is it that you are not with Elrohir? Should you not be looking in on your brother?"

"I was just there." She replied sadly. "He has awakened but is still rather weak."

"Húrin was there?" Legolas asked, hoping to hide his sullenness.

"Indeed. She is still there. Did you have need to speak with her?"

"No, I just was wondering if she would make it for supper." He said, trying to seem nonchalant about bringing her up.

Arwen paused, studying him for a moment.

"It was quite strange really. Elrohir asked to speak to Húrin alone and she had the same request." Arwen said offhandedly though she eyed Legolas to gauge his reaction. "Elladan and Lalaith also left to dine here. They are over there."

Arwen pointed vaguely behind him, though she did not expect him to care to turn around.

She was right.

Legolas had completely frozen. She could tell from what she knew of his manner that he was now wearing a mask, one of indifference and hidden fury.

Mechanically, Legolas stood, pushing his plate forward. "If you'll excuse me Arwen. I'm fatigued from the long journey. I am going to retire to my room."

She watched him stiffly walk away, very sure that she was watching a prince very much in love.

She sighed. _Oh Elrohir… It is a difficult road that is laid before you. I cannot interfere in either case, though I thoroughly wish and hope that you may be granted the desires of your heart._

 _oo00oo_

* * *

 **DUN DUN DUN! Love triangle, though there may be more haha (; Also, I AM SO GLAD THAT HURIN FINALLY HAS A SPINE! I've been waiting for this chapter for so long. I really wanted to focus on character development, and in order to do that, you often have to start with characters you don't particularly like in the beginning. So here's to growth! Haha, tell me what you think! Hopefully I'll find the time to update soon! (:**


	12. Chapter 10: Eyes Wide Open

**Hey guys! So sorry I've been gone for so long, things have been crazy -_-. I had a really long portion of this written for a long time but didn't have the time to finish. This is also the shortest chapter I've written in a while, but I really wanted to get it out to you guys (: Hope you enjoy!**

 _Dramatis Personae_

Legolas/princeling - son of King Thranduil (86 yo)

Hurin/aew - daughter of Methedras, singer of the trees (83 yo)

King Thranduil - Ruler of Eryn Galen (age unknown)

Mithrandir/Olorin - One of the 5 Maiar sent by the Ainur (sent in the TA)

Glorfindel - Reincarnated elf with great (unknown) powers, was a great warrior in the FA, sent by the Ainur in 1600 SA

Elladan - son of Elrond, on loan to King Thranduil (970 yo)

Elrohir - son of Elrond, on loan to King Thranduil (970 yo)

Arwen Undomiel - daughter of Lord Elrond (658 yo)

Lalaith - member of the Woodland guard (1694 yo)

It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.

-Theodore Roosevelt

00

oo

00

* * *

 _1100 of the Third Age_

 _The Healing Rooms in the Hall of the Elvenking_

"-and Elladan was so angry, he chased Legolas around with the remaining tea all the way into the throne room!" Elrohir recalled animatedly.

Húrin had been doubled over in laughter ever since Elrohir had woken up. He woke up in a surprisingly good humor and had not yet stopped telling stories of Legolas and his brother, at the expense of one or both of them.

For his part, Elrohir was basking in the particular kind of joy that comes from being the sole attention of one's love interest. He smiled at her bright eyes as they teared up from the merriment that he was bringing her.

"He did not really!" Húrin managed between gasps. "When Legolas told the story, I nearly did not believe him."

"Oh, have no doubt, young Húrin. He is very poor at archery."

"Even after all this time working with Cuthalion?" She asked, collecting herself.

"He has not really been working at it. He has been training in knife skills and close combat. From the time my brother and I have been here, he has done naught but spar with us."

Húrin looked thoughtful for a moment, and then shook her head refocusing. "Anyways, that is not what I wanted to speak with you of. I requested to speak with you alone because I would like to apologize."

Elrohir immediately cut in. "No Húrin , there is no need of apology where you are concerned. I know that you have acted as best you could. I asked much of you back at Amon Lanc, and though I may have been injured, you kept everyone safer than any other could have."

"But I did not!" She cried, standing agitatedly. "I am more powerful than you know."

Elrohir's brow rose slightly at this, but his soft demeanor towards her did not change.

"It is only because of the failings of my own heart that I put everyone in so great a danger! I have refused to learn to fight, to even defend myself. I have refused to use my abilities to their full extent. I have made myself less than worthless against this growing darkness, and I will have it no more."

Elrohir did not interrupt, a fervor glinted in his eyes that unnerved Húrin a bit. But she had already decided what she was going to say to him and nothing was going to stop her.

"Elrohir, I ask for your forgiveness in light of your injuries. I am working to amend my fears and forge a more stout heart." She sat back down next to him. "I will prove myself in time."

Elrohir slowly sat up, trying very hard not to wince at the pain that lanced through his shoulder. Coming to his full sitting height, he brought his face closer to Húrin. It was so close that she could see every fleck of silver in his dark grey eyes.

Taking her hand, he spoke softly and with intention. "Húrin. You never need apologize to me for any of the aims of your heart, for I have seen it as true and kind. Perhaps it has been fearful, even timid. But I will not allow you to shame yourself for valuing all life, even the lives of our enemies."

Húrin blinked slowly, unable to take the intensity of his gaze. His deep voice washed over her, like a soft wind that tousled through her ears and hair, and his closeness caused her to flush. Looking into his eyes, however, she was still able to keep clarity in her thoughts. Truthfully, she felt torn between feeling flattered and feeling markedly uncomfortable.

She withdrew her hand slowly, backing away a little. "I thank you Elrohir, for your kind words. But I feel as though paying heed to the lives of our enemies has only belittled the love I have for my friends and allies. To have mercy on one is to doom the other."

"I do not deny that it is impossible to save all lives in every battle. However, no one should be condemned for wishing that none should die." Elrohir stayed where he was, not moving forward, nor laying back. His gaze continued to bore into Húrin.

"Perhaps. As long as the one who wishes for the preservation of life is not willing to sacrifice the lives of her friends in the name of peace."

"I do not believe that you were willing to sacrifice our lives in the name of peace." Elrohir pointed out.

"No, but in my naivete I forced others into positions where it was unavoidable. The ignorance of my ideals I believe were borne out of a fear of blame, of responsibility. It is easier to do nothing and allow others to have to bear the guilt."

"I do not disagree." Elrohir conceded. "Though in my eyes, I see only an elfling who truly desires good."

He sighed and drew back a little, though the flame in his eyes did not die.

"I do forgive you Húrin, if that is what you ask of me."

Breathing deeply, Húrin seemed to relax. "Thank you, Elrohir."

"I am glad to put your mind at ease."

"I believe that there was something you wished to speak of with me as well. What did you want to discuss?"

Elrohir gave a confident half smile, laying fully back again against the headboard of the bed. "Mmm, I very much want to speak plainly with you Húrin, but perhaps the time for such words has not yet come to pass."

Perplexed, Húrin waited for Elrohir to elaborate further.

"You have much to recommend yourself Húrin, and I hope to see more of you in the coming days."

When she realized that he was not going to explain himself anymore, she rose to leave. "I think highly of the times we are able to speak Elrohir, especially if you have more stories to embarrass Legolas and Elladan. I will take my leave of you, and hope you are able to rest."

He chuckled, "Then I shall spend the time until we see one another again, thinking of nothing but more stories. _Losto vae [Rest well]_ Húrin."

With that, she strode out of the room, nearly running into Lalaith as she opened the door out of the Healing Rooms.

"Oh! Excuse me Lalaith, I did not hear your approach." Húrin quickly apologized.

"Watch where you're going!" Lalaith muttered, brushing harshly past Húrin.

Biting her tongue so that she would not retaliate, Húrin kept her eyes ahead, determined to make it to her room without thinking bitterly of Lalaith.

To her surprise, upon reaching her room, she found Legolas pacing in front of her door.

"Legolas! What are you doing out here?"

He looked up at the sound of her voice, his eyes clouded with anxiety.

"Is something wrong?" She asked, beginning to grow worried herself.

"O-o-oh, mm, n-no." Legolas stuttered out. He stopped pacing and faced her.

"H-how was your time with Elrohir?" He asked, staring down at the ground and scratching the back of his head nervously.

"It was...fine?" Húrin said, feeling very confused and a little nervous at Legolas's strange behavior. He never stuttered, or looked nervous, what was bothering him?

"He is well if that is what you are nervous about." She guessed, trying to sort out his anxious fidgeting.

"Oh," he paused.

"I'm glad." He finally stated dumbly, not sure of what he was actually supposed to be saying. The voice in his mind was screaming at him to do something, say _something_ , anything to explain himself.

After he had heard of Húrin's whereabouts, he found himself unable to stop thinking of her, wandering aimlessly, unable to keep still. Somehow he had ended up pacing in front of her door. What he would do when she actually arrived at her door, he had not yet thought of.

Húrin stood, thoroughly baffled, but also quite ready to lay in her bed and rest.

"Well, I suppose that I should be off to bed then." She said as she made a move toward her door.

"Wait." Legolas reached out, lightly taking her hand as she brushed past.

Húrin stopped in her tracks as soon as the bare skin of his fingers grazed her hand. She took a step back so that her wide, questioning eyes were able to peer at Legolas's downcast face.

He quickly peeked up from his study of the floor to look at Húrin's face. Concern and a tenderness that he knew he himself lacked, lingered in the softness of her eyes.

 _What am I doing here?_ Legolas thought to himself not for the first time. _Why am I unable to leave her? And yet I am unable to speak._

 _What ails you?_ Came the soft voice of Húrin's mind. _You know you can speak to me of anything mellon._

Without anything else to be said, Legolas tugged on the hand he was clasping, bringing her into a tight yet short embrace. He squeezed her, savoring their closeness for a moment, almost like one who takes a deep breath of oxygen knowing they are about to spend a long time underwater.

"I just wanted to wish you a good night. _Ollo vae [dream well]._ " He whispered as his chin rested on her head.

Then, just as quickly as he had pulled her in, he pushed her away, and was retreating down the hall.

Húrin looked after his retreating form, shocked into stillness.

Questions swirled through her mind with no semblance of coherency. It took a moment before she remembered to breathe again. With one last look down a now empty hallway, she strode into her room.

oo00oo

* * *

THUNK!

Another arrow landed in the outer ring of a target on the archery ground.

Legolas pulled yet another arrow from his quiver, frustration coloring his movements with a jerky decisiveness. His brow glistened with sweat that shone in the light of the moon and the stars.

"Are you going to come down and shoot arrows with me or continue to peer at me as one stalking prey?" Legolas yelled with irritation.

He would rather that he was alone, but it could not be helped. He would rather have the intruder to his privacy be obvious rather than hidden. He did not like a pair of eyes on him.

There was no answer from the trees, but a slight rustle.

"Come out, or I shall shoot you down." Legolas snarled, losing patience.

"Ha! I would not level idle threats to me, _gwinig [child]_." Came a chuckle from the trees. "You could not hit me if I was but a handbreadth in front of you."

Despite his answer, Elladan dropped down from his perch among the trees and walked up to Legolas's side.

Legolas continued to fire down the range, doing his best to ignore the arrogance that exuded from Elladan as he grabbed a bow and began to fire with near perfect accuracy.

"Should you not be sleeping? The night is late and you are clearly still not hitting the targets."

Legolas growled. "Should not you? Or perhaps looking after your wounded brother. Leave me."

"Indeed, dear prince, you seem to have quite the foul mood this evening. What is on your mind that drives you to shoot arrows into the darkness and wag your tongue so disrespectfully?" Elladan chided.

Legolas leered aimlessly into the darkness. "You need not pretend to care about my emotional well-being. I would rather be left alone."

Elladan could not suppress a sly smile as he leaned closer to Legolas, "Are you sure? I heard murmurs throughout the palace that you were quite distraught at being left alone by the youngling Húrin."

The scowl deepened on Legolas's face. "I seem to recall _you_ having claim on her heart. 'Fair to look upon and even fairer to the touch.' I believe your words were. Though I now suspect that you may have to contend with your brother for her to bestow such favors upon you."

The words became more and more bitter towards the end of his scoff. By the end he was nearly snarling again.

Elladan chuckled. "Be at ease, dear _gwinig_ , I do not desire her heart. I only desire that she do her best for the side of good. She has now proven that this is her own desire as well. And I do not believe my brother to be so tempted by one so frail of mind and heart. She has made many errors of judgement, and with that, many enemies."

At these words Legolas stiffened, and then abruptly rounded on Elladan. "Your words would be better kept inside your mind if you wish to keep your head where it sits, son of Elrond. You will not speak such words of the Lady Húrin in my presence. You do not know her, or who she withholds her blades for."

Raising up his hands in defense, Elladan backed away, though his impish smile still hung on his lips. "Peace, Legolas. If you feel so strongly, perhaps you are the one who I shall be contending with for her heart."

The fierceness of Legolas's gaze did not lessen.

"Do you openly still declare yourself in contention for such a prize?"

Elladan's smirk faded into a thoughtful glance outward. "The 'Lady Húrin' as you call her, if she has caught the attention of so many princes of our lands must have merits that either I am blind to, or make a fool of many. I do not pretend that she does not intrigue me. But I must confess that her gaze holds no sway over my own heart."

Legolas's glare continued to pierce the dark, but he drew away from Elladan, lowering the bow again downfield towards the targets.

"You know nothing of her." He murmured under his breath as he continued to fire arrows into the blackness.

Elladan hung up the bow he had been shooting with and began to walk past Legolas off the field.

As he passed, he heard Elladan murmur quietly, "And you do?"

oo00oo

* * *

The next morning came with its usual fare. The sun peeped up over the horizon, calling the Eldar to stir from their slumbering wakefulness.

Húrin arose and donned a day dress of steely grey. She found that the color called to her much more in recent times than in the past.

The rushed and confusing embrace that Legolas had given her had haunted her waking dreams in a way that made her very uncomfortable. Already having come to the resolution that entrusting her heart to Legolas was dangerous and foolhardy, she had done her best to dismiss any feelings she may harbor. The feverish sense of pleasure that the feeling of him wrapped around her had brought however, was hard to suppress. It hummed in her body, producing a small ache as she shoved the feeling down.

Shaking her head and steeling her mind, she set off briskly to begin her day.

At breakfast, she quickly discerned that Legolas was already seated and eating with Arwen, merriment very clearly being exchanged between them. A slight frown fought to bring the corners of her lips down, though remembering her agreement with Glorfindel to stay by Legolas's side, she moved to sit across from the laughing elves.

"Good morning Húrin!" Arwen greeted warmly, "I take that you are well rested from your journey to Amon Lanc?"

Húrin looked at Arwen and flushed, once again struck by her beauty. She felt as though everything Arwen did was grace and beauty itself. She felt wholly inadequate looking into her face that seemed to glow with youth and radiance, framed by a shimmering curtain of jet black.

"G-good morning." Húrin managed meekly. "Have I arisen late?"

"Nay, Húrin." Arwen reassured her, "I often find peace in the mornings that often escapes the other hours of the day. When I awake before the sun, I am more at ease."

Turning to Legolas, Húrin noticed for the first time that he did not look all that well. Whereas she had struggled to sleep but felt relatively rested, he looked as though he had not slept at all the night before.

He gave her a wry smile, turning his gray eyes toward hers. "Good morning Húrin."

She gave him an apprehensive smile, examining them as she sat. They both sat as the highest compliment to Elvenkind. Arwen, the embodiment of beautiful, delicate grace, and Legolas, the handsome, strong, and fierce prince. Húrin held her head a little higher, trying to mask her feelings of intimidation.

"Are you to attend the council as well Arwen?" Húrin asked as she poked at the roasted potato hash that sat on her plate.

Arwen quickly shook her head, her face a look of displeasure. "Nay Húrin. My father never wishes to involve me in affairs of state if he can help it. He prefers to keep me…" She paused, her mouth pursed in distaste as though trying to describe a particularly foul flavor, "sheltered."

"Protected." Legolas immediately corrected, not looking up from his breakfast.

Arwen shot him a glare. "Keeping someone from unpleasant truths does not make them any safer. If a robber is coming in the night, those who are aware are the safest and most useful."

 _Only if those who know are willing to stand up for what is right._ Thought Húrin bitterly.

Legolas stood up to leave. "You have a point Lady Arwen, however, if a warrior's mind is distracted than he can be worse than a detriment to his unit."

"Perhaps he should have more faith in those who he has left behind." Arwen answered with an unwavering gaze at him.

They locked eyes, and Húrin felt another urge to frown creep into her heart. She immediately pushed it away.

Legolas opened his mouth to speak, and then after a moment shut it again. Giving a small salute to Arwen and the Húrin, he briskly trotted off towards the council rooms.

Húrin quickly scarfed down her meal and ran after him. It would not due to be late again, and she was determined to not be seen by Glorfindel breaking her promise of staying close to Legolas.

Breaking into a run to catch up, she caught Legolas as he re-entered the hallway that lead into the dining area. As she ran, she gave a cursory glance at the hanging chandelier of flowers that it seemed that they had made so long ago. In reality it had been nigh on a week, however, Húrin felt strongly that the strong hand of change had touched not only her and Legolas, but Middle Earth in the time that they had ventured to Amon Lanc.

oo00oo

* * *

The council convened in the same chamber that the journey had began in, the only notable difference being that Elrohir was lying in a sick bed instead of sitting in a council chair. Color continued to return to him, as did strength, and it was only at the constant insistence of Glorfindel that Elladan did not return to all his normal activities.

King THranduil sat with a grave expression on his face, not making eye contact with any in the circle. Húrin was doing her best to not look at him, as his presence only made her palms sweat and voice waver.

It was easier this time as Legolas was sitting directly to his right and Húrin to the right of Legolas. Húrin also had the added, unbidden strength of Legolas's mind. She could feel his calm rolling over her like waves of the sea, bringing her heart to a normal cadence. It was good to have him back on her side.

Had she been paying attention to anything other than remaining calm, she would have felt the eyes of Glorfindel and Elladan often upon her.

"Shall we call this council to a beginning?" Lord Elrond began as he stood. The murmuring of the room died down.

"First, we shall hear an account from Elladan and Elrohir, leaders of the mission. At the conclusion of their report, we shall also hear from the Glorfindel and Húrin, giving us an account of the mind." Lord Elrond announced, he then sat, leaving the floor open to Elrohir and Elladan.

Elladan rose from his seat and moved to stand next to Elrohir as they gave an hour by hour account of the mission from a military standpoint. They noted the positions of the guard, contingencies that they had to invoke and the catastrophe that had been the reconnaissance and escape from what they were now referring to as _Dol Guldur [hill of sorcery]._

Elrohir left out how Húrin had been weak and pale as they had reached the center of Dol Guldur for which she was grateful. He also left out how she had panicked in the corridor and nearly gotten him killed by a stray orc arrow. She looked across the council to see Lalaith raising an eyebrow at certain parts, though she did not look at Húrin.

When the tale was done, King Thranduil rose. "Thank you for the detailed report. It is your belief then that an evil resides in Dol Guldur, though you were not able to ascertain what?"

The twins nodded.

"We were unable to determine whether it was a wraith, the Witch King, or even Sauron himself. I am afraid in this way we failed." Elrohir stated matter-of-factly.

King Thranduil nodded. He turned to look at Glorfindel and Húrin. "Have you anything to add to their report?"

He fixed a piercing gaze at Húrin, and she had to concentrate every fiber of her being on being still in order to not shrink under his scrutiny.

Glorfindel rose first. "As you heard, we encountered a Nazgul riding a fell beast. This is of great concern to me. For I have a great presence in the unseen world, the world of the ring, and of the wraiths. In times past, they have fled my very presence. The boldness in coming into the open with not only I, but an armed Elven guard leads me to believe that something greater than a wraith resides in Dol Guldur."

Lord Elrond's brow furrowed in thought. "Do you believe it to be the Witch King of Angmar then?"

Glorfindel shook his head. "Something very evil, enough so that it was difficult to see anything, or hear anything. To those attuned to the Song of the Ainur, it was great pain to be even near to Dol Guldur. I believe it to be Sauron."

Small gasps emitted throughout the room. Hands covered mouths as faces paled.

"Húrin, did you feel this presence?" King Thranduil asked, his eyes glinting like steel.

Húrin rose, trying to exude her newfound confidence. "I did. As we came to the very heart of Dol Guldur, it came to the point where I could not even move my limbs any longer. Elrohir had to aid me in our escape."

Lord Elrond and King Thranduil threw an accusatory glance at Elrohir, conveying their dissatisfaction at the completeness of his report. Elrohir however kept his eyes on Húrin, not a hint of remorse in his face.

"I also was able to interrogate an orc. It was a necessity to our escape as we had no map and were quickly becoming lost." Húrin closed her eyes for a moment, concentrating on the memory. She had tried to recall the strange words that had been spoken into her mind when she had felt the cold spread through her. It seemed distant and foggy, as though it had happened a long time ago or to someone else. "In trying to parse through the orc's mind, I felt a controlling evil, a cold, and it spoke words that I did not understand."

She took a deep breath, just trying to sound out what she remembered, " _Ash nazg durbatulûk._ _Ash nazg gimbatul._ _Ash nazg thrakatulûk. Agh burzum-ishi krimpatu."_

The unearthly sounds echoed through the chamber, lingering the in the air, dark, ominous, and wicked sounding.

Húrin opened her eyes to see every elf but Legolas staring at her in utter horror.

Mithrandir, the only one not frozen in astonishment rose from his seat immediately and strode over to Húrin in swift steps. He placed his hands on her shoulders, though she could tell from the firmness of his grip that he did not have comforting words.

"Húrin. You are sure that those were the words of the voice from the orc."

She nodded.

"And you didn't hear anything else."

Húrin looked down in concentration for a moment. There had been something else… If she could only think harder.

"I did hear the voice say other things, but" she shook her head, "I can't remember."

Silence permeated the room as Mithrandir continued to look at her with an intensity that was barely kept in check.

"I do remember that there was a feeling of cold, and of hatred. I felt as though...something were trying to take me over… And there was this laugh." Húrin shivered in Mithrandir's grip, despite her hard work to maintain her calm exterior.

Mithrandir gave Húrin one more once over and then abruptly let go, striding back to his chair, though he did not sit down.

"We must act quickly! Sauron has most certainly returned to Middle Earth." He declared, his voice booming off of the hard wooden walls. He swept his eyes over the elves sitting at council. A mix of determination, chock, fear, and terror was on their faces.

Lord Elrond rose also. "Do you really believe that my friend?"

Mithrandir turned swiftly towards him. "You are a fool if you do not recognize those words for what they are."

"I acknowledge the words, but the existence of the ring does not mean its master has suddenly arisen." Lord Elrond urged. "I agree that this is grave, and that steps must be taken immediately. However, if it is truly Sauron living at Dol Guldur, should we not call all of the Maiar before reaching a decision of all out war?"

King Thranduil nodded at this.

Mithrandir threw scathing glances at both Elven Lords, pulling out his pipe in his agitation. "I shall call the Maiar, but when they declare the same as I, you both must be willing to act!"

The Elven Lords nodded solemnly, both serious, both bound by their word.

With that, Mithrandir stormed out of the chamber, leaving the rest of the elves to slowly disperse after a few awkward glances around the chamber.

King Thranduil and Lord Elrond were in close council, speaking quickly and quietly as they walked out of the council. Húrin, still standing watched the other elves, noting how many of them eyed her in fear. A fear that had not been there before. Lalaith fixed her with a look of suspicion, no fear showing in her face as she helped to transport Elrohir back to the Healing Rooms.

Húrin turned to Legolas who was still sitting to her left. _Do you have any idea of what just happened?_

Legolas did not look at her as he stood. _Follow me_.

Húrin wordlessly followed after him as he lead her out into the hall. As soon as there was no one else around, he offered her his hand.

 _You may need it_. Was all he said as their fingers once more intertwined.

He lead her into the library, a place that they both knew quite well, though he began to lead her through book stacks and scroll depositories that she had never browsed before. Deeper and deeper into the library they went until they were in front of a door on the far side, away from the entrance.

Legolas whispered some words, and silver seemed to spring out of nowhere, forming what looked like a dying tree. The door swung open easily as the lights died away.

As soon as they were inside, Legolas closed the door behind him. Thrown into darkness, she heard Legolas strike some flint and a small flame popped up within a lantern. She looked around the room.

The room was very small, and seemed to feel even smaller as there were stacks of books and scrolls all along the edges of the room, leaving very little room to stand in. Nestled near the back was an old solid writing desk, also covered in books and scrolls. Húrin felt as though she couldn't even stretch out her arms in any direction without touching both walls. There was barely even enough room for her and Legolas to stand without touching.

 _What are we doing in here?_ Húrin asked softly.

 _This is the forbidden book room. There is much on dark magic, and dark beings in here._ He answered as he began rummaging through piles of scrolls.

Húrin looked around the room with a new appreciation for the heaviness in the room. There must have been hundreds of books and scrolls piled up in there. It truly was an evil feeling place.

She picked up a book to examine it as Legolas continued to rummage with his free hand.

"The Breeding and Caretaking of Orcs" the cover read. She flipped it open and almost immediately shut it again. Images of tortured elves burned into her memory. She tossed the book with disdain down on a pile.

 _This is it_. Legolas's mind whispered.

Húrin turned toward him, a small fear in her mind. She had no wish to see more images like the ones she had just looked at.

It was a scroll, long, and yellowed from age. Legolas unrolled it on the desk. Quite a bit of it needed to be unrolled as he kept turning the top dowel. Húrin skimmed it as he turned. It was all words which was a relief with only a few symbols. It was on ring making written by an elf named Celebrimbor.

Finally, he stopped.

 _Here_. Legolas pointed.

It was a line of swirling script that Húrin had never seen before.

 _What is it?_ Húrin asked timidly, squeezing his hand unconsciously.

 _It is Black Speech_.

Húrin's face went white. Black Speech was the speech of the servants of Mordor, created by Sauron. Her hands, letting go of Legolas's flew to her mouth in horror. She had uttered Black Speech in front of two Elven Lords, and one of the Maiar. She stepped backward in shock, trying to keep her balance as her head spun.

A warm, steadying hand was suddenly on her back. She looked at Legolas, fear in her eyes. In his she saw a quiet sadness and compassion, a warmth that quelled her panic a bit.

Bracing herself, she asked _What does it mean?_

Turning back to the scroll, Legolas pointed at the paragraph before the Black Speech. _It is the inscription of the One Ring of power made for Sauron in the Second Age. What you spoke in the council room is the inscription on the ring._ _One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them, One Ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them._

Húrin nodded numbly. _It was Sauron speaking to me then. In my head._

Legolas turned away from the scroll to face her. In the small room, there was not a hands-breadth between them.

 _I cannot say for certain. But it is a possibility._

He looked into her face, ready to comfort her as this awful realization sunk in.

To his surprise, he saw her expression flicker from horror, to anger, to a resolute determination.

 _Mithrandir is right. We must act now._

Legolas fought to keep a grin from spreading across his face. This was the Húrin he had waited for. His friend, his confidante, someone he could count on.

 _What?_ Her mind spoke as she cocked her head, confused. She knew him well enough to know that he was suppressing a smile.

Legolas gave her a lopsided smile that seemed to wobble with nervousness.

"I...forgive you." He muttered softly to the ground.

Suddenly, his head snapped up, to look at Húrin, astonished by the words that had come out of his mouth.

He had not planned on saying it. Indeed this was much sooner than he had intended, he thought that it would be years before he even began to heal. He found however that his heart was crying it out. Truly, he desired to be in her company always. He thought of the tenderness behind her eyes, the growing strength that resided within her. And he felt that the sorrow for his mother was turning. Turning into an acceptance of what had been and a hope of what could be.

With more confidence he looked at her, his eyes fierce and filled with resolution this time. "I forgive you, Húrin."

Wide-eyed, Húrin stumbled backward, finding however that her back was already pressed up against a stack of books.

"Truly?" She barely managed to whisper.

Slowly, but without hesitation, Legolas stepped forward, his steely grey eyes never leaving hers. He reached his hand up to brush a stray hair from her face, ending with his fingertips brushing behind her ear, trailing down her jaw bone.

She fought to suppress a shiver as the unmistakable pleasure of Legolas's touch trilled through her. His eyes were still on her and she blinked, as she fought to hide the feelings that were welling up in her. His gaze however did not waver.

"Truly." He whispered back. The small wind his word created landed like a soft kiss. His scent spreading through her nose, the warm, fresh scent of the outdoors that he always carried. She began to feel lightheaded as she tried to respond.

Respond to what though? She had already forgotten how they had gotten there, why they were there, and what exactly Legolas had said. All she could feel was the fluttering of her heart as he stood over her, his eyes locked on hers.

"I-I, um, I…" She began, feeling more nervous than even when King Thranduil had stood over her with disdain.

Legolas gave another lopsided smile and stepped back.

Coherency seemed to slowly flow back into Húrin as she breathed in for what felt like the first time.

"H-h-how did you even know about this room?" She asked shakily, still trying to get her heart rate back down.

Legolas's countenance darkened slightly. "I came here many times after my mother's death. I was willing to look into anything that may help me, or…" he hesitated, "bring her back."

Húrin suddenly felt cold clarity again. They were in a forbidden room of books filled with evil, dark, twisted magic. She had to get out of there.

Reading her reaction, Legolas quickly opened the door and Húrin felt almost instantly better, the sunlight streaming into the library banshing the musky feel of dark magic off of her.

She stood for a moment, closing her eyes and glorying in the sunshine.

Legolas looked over at her, the sun highlighting her silver hair and lashes, as well as her silvery grey dress, that draped her in such a way that flattered her best. The flowing fabric at her waist highlighted her lightness of foot, and the form fitting top, the strength of her limbs. The gentle curve of her bodice seemed to be an open invitation to place his hands on either side of her waist.

He could feel himself falling. Perhaps this is why Elladan bothered him so much, and now Elrohir.

He desired Húrin.

While his anger had yet burned towards her, he had been unable to see it, but now he could truly see all of her. The strengths and the weaknesses, the tenderness and the warrior. She was lovely, and he wanted her all to himself.

"While we are waiting, should we not begin the training that we spoke of earlier?" Húrin's voice rang, bringing him out of his thoughts and back into the present.

He sighed, "You are not speaking of archery are you?"

She smiled mischievously, "Are you certain that you are so bad?"

He ran his hand down his face. This was not the impression he wanted to make on her having just realized what she meant to him.

"You need not worry. I am to train in all forms of fighting, and at 83 years of age, I have not yet touched even one." Húrin said with a reassuring smile.

"Perhaps I can bear it then." He begrudged.

"Then come." She urged as she began to walk away.

Legolas took one look again back at the forbidden book room before turning to run and catch up with her retreating form.

oo00oo

* * *

Mithrandir held a bag as he approached the empty pedestal. Placing it gingerly in his right hand, he gently tipped the bag until a large black round stone rolled out onto the pedestal.

Placing his hand on the stone, he stared straight into it.

"It is time."

* * *

 **Yay! We've got half the duo to stop being clueless. Hopefully we'll get the other one soon haha. Please review! Thanks, you guys are the best! (:**


	13. Chapter 11: Healing and Growing

**Hey guys! Long time between updates again. I hope you all had a wonderful thanksgiving! Between work and family stuffs, I haven't had the time to devote to this, but I'm very determined to see the whole thing through. Don't worry, and please enjoy this shorter chapter! (:**

 _Dramatis Personae_

Legolas/princeling - son of King Thranduil (86 yo)

Hurin/aew - daughter of Methedras, singer of the trees (83 yo)

King Thranduil - Ruler of Eryn Galen (age unknown)

Mithrandir/Olorin - One of the 5 Maiar sent by the Ainur (sent in the TA)

Glorfindel - Reincarnated elf with great (unknown) powers, was a great warrior in the FA, sent by the Ainur in 1600 SA

Elladan - son of Elrond, on loan to King Thranduil (970 yo)

Elrohir - son of Elrond, on loan to King Thranduil (970 yo)

Arwen Undomiel - daughter of Lord Elrond (658 yo)

Lalaith - member of the Woodland guard (1694 yo)

That the deepest wound is the least unique

surprises nobody but the living.

Secretly, and with what feels like good reason,

we're the pain the people we love

put the people they no longer love in.

 _-Star Turn (Graham Foust)_

 _00_

 _oo_

 _00_

* * *

 _1100 of the Third Age- Greenwood_

"Again!"

Húrin picked herself up for what felt like the 50th time, brushing the dirt out of her matted hair. She glowered up at Cuthalion, who was looking down at her ambivalently, waiting for her to get up.

She grimaced, trying very hard not to give away just how much pain she was in and crouched down into a fighting stance.

This was her third week of training with Cuthalion, and even though she had been spending all her time either on the archery range or in the sparring ground, she didn't seem to be getting anywhere. Even though she readily understood movement and momentum from her time racing through the trees, she had never had to tangle with something that wasn't stationary. She performed sequences of stances, strokes, and moves correctly, but the moment she was put up against another fighter, it was like she had never even learned to walk.

She glanced over at Legolas who was now shooting at targets from twice the distance that he had been three weeks ago. The corners of her mouth went down as she observed him. It did not help that Legolas seemed to be improving much more quickly than she was. For all his talk of being poor at archery, she now realized that it was only due to lack of practice, not any deficit in ability.

For another, as she watched, yet another group of three or four _elleth_ _[elven maidens]_ passed by, stealing glances at him and speaking in hushed tones.

Húrin's eyes narrowed involuntarily. For reasons that Húrin could not fathom, it seemed as though the sharp edges around Legolas had been smoothed. Her constant fear of his temper, and all the malicious words and looks that came with it, had faded. His smiles came more easily, and genuine laughs were easier to come by. She also found herself unable to look at him directly in his eyes without flushing. The stars that fascinated the Eldar so greatly seemed to glimmer in the grey of his eyes when he was happy.

This change was not unwelcome on the whole, and Húrin found herself laughing and smiling with him much more often. However, it wasn't only her who had noticed the change.

Legolas's overall change in attitude made him seem much more approachable than the gloomy, curt prince that others knew him as. Slowly, as the days had gone past, Húrin found more and more _elleth_ at the breakfast table around Legolas. It had now gotten to the point where, if Legolas did not save her a seat, she would have been forced to sit at another table entirely.

Every morning, she fought back a grimace as she imagined just how many _elleth_ would be waiting for her at what used to be, **their** table.

"Húrin, focus!" barked Cuthalion.

Húrin tore her gaze away from Legolas's shooting and trained her eyes on Cuthalion.

 _How goes the sparring?_ Came a concerned voice inside her mind.

 _How do you think?_ She snarled back. _And it's not any better when you pop into my head and ruin my concentration._

The voice fell silent, though a feeling of concerned understanding came immediately after her words were spoken. Their connection had grown immensely over the past few weeks. When she wasn't learning the art of war, she was sitting with Glorfindel, continuing their training of her mind and hearing of the Music of the Ainur.

Now that she had let go of her inhibitions, she found it much easier to commune with other elves, streams and rivers, as well as bugs and animals. Her preference was still for trees, but she now found that if she was touching something, she could fairly easily understand its mind. Superficially at least.

Cuthalion was already rushing towards her now in swift, deadly movements.

She tried to read him, tracking his feet, and predicting where he was going to go. Cuthalion's right bent more deeply than his previous steps and Húrin correctly read it as him loading to leap to the left, trying to catch her unguarded side. She moved quickly to the right and forward, hoping to be able to take advantage of Cuthalion's exposed back.

He had hoped that she would.

In less time than it took for Húrin's eyes to widen, Cuthalion twisted in midair so that his back was to the ground, parrying her sword, and kicking out her legs. She hit the ground again with an "Oomph!"

Face down in the dirt, she hit the ground with her fist, feeling hot, sweaty, and frustrated. A shadow fell over her and she looked up, ready to glare at Cuthalion.

To her surprise, she saw Elrohir, standing over her, his hand extended to help her up.

Checking her glare, and slightly embarrassed, she took his hand and stood up.

He chuckled lightly as she looked down at the ground, trying to brush herself off, as though that would hide just how badly her training was going.

As though reading her thoughts, he placed his hand lightly on her shoulder. "Húrin. You need not be embarrassed. No one excels at sparring in the beginning. Three weeks is less than the blink of an eye for an elf. You are doing well."

He ended with an encouraging smile.

Unfortunately for Elrohir, his words seemed to have the opposite effect, as Húrin's fists clenched more tightly around her training sword and she squared up her face in defiance.

"Yes, Elrohir, you would be quite right if it weren't for the rise of Sauron! I have wasted nearly 80 years. I do not have all the time afforded to an elf to learn this! I have to be better! Work harder!" She was working herself up, leaning forward closer to his face with each exclamation so that by the end she was on her tiptoes mere inches from him.

A moment passed between them where Húrin again thought that she saw something pass behind Elrohir's eyes. But she was too frustrated to make much note of it.

Elrohir looked down at her with a look of concern that greatly mirrored Legolas's tone of voice in her head as he used his hand on her shoulder to slowly push her back to her normal height.

"Perhaps it would be better if you trained in slow motion." He suggested lightly, motioning Cuthalion to come forward and join the conversation.

"You have been learning many techniques using traditional methods and means. Elven philosophy often does not optimize time, as it is something that comes plentifully to us. For sparring, it can take years before a newly trained elven guard even lasts more than a few seconds against an elf with experience." Elrohir explained. "Just ask Legolas." He added with another chuckle.

Cuthalion nodded, agreeing with Elrohir. Though when he mentioned Legolas, Cuthalion closed his eyes for a moment, almost as though the memory caused him discomfort.

"But should you feel rushed Húrin, that time is not your friend, we may have to try some methods that are less focused on intuition and repetition." Elrohir glanced over at Cuthalion as he said this.

Cuthalion glowered a bit, when Elrohir gave him a meaningful look. The two began speaking quickly about different training methods and their merits, Cuthalion as unwavering in his opinion of keeping things the same as Elrohir was to cater to Húrin's needs.

Glancing between the two of them, Húrin heaved a sigh. She didn't really want special treatment, but at the same time, she felt like she didn't have the years to devote to training the traditional way. To give the two a moment to work it out, she walked away to get some water, hoping that everything would be resolved by the time she got back.

* * *

Legolas looked up from the archery range to wipe the sweat off his brow. It was nearly summer now and between his intense concentration on the archery field and the heat of the day, he was beginning to sweat. He glanced up from downfield to the sparring grounds where Húrin was training.

Watching Húrin train worked in Legolas a strange mix of emotions that he didn't really know what to do with. For one thing, watching her get beat down over and over and over again was very difficult. More than once he found himself halfway up the hill to defend her and maybe take some choice swipes at Cuthalion without even realizing he had started moving.

On the other hand, he had a swelling pride that grew intensely in his chest as he surveyed her tenacity and perseverance. She was tough. Tougher than he had ever given her credit for, and for some reason he felt both pride and love for her because of it.

And finally, there was the most confusing piece. The deep gutteral feeling that he had always gotten when he watched her fly through the trees bubbled to the surface whenever he watched her train. It transfixed and enthralled him. As he watched her muscles flex, her eyes glint, and clothes flow about her, he felt himself wanting nothing more than to run up and press his body against hers. Feel her strength and become lost in her movements.

Now that he had finally accepted how he felt, he now found it more and more difficult to suppress that last feeling in particular. It always lurked in the back of his mind, but when Húrin began to really dance or make athletic motions, his imagination would begin to coax the gutteral feeling out of the darkness.

As he looked up at what should have been Húrin training, he noted with dismay that instead of her sparring, Elrohir and Cuthalion were at the top of the hill deep in discussion about something. The corners of his mouth tightened.

A whole other set of feelings welled up in him whenever he say Elrohir. Though it didn't seem as though Elrohir was purposefully seeking Húrin out, Legolas did not like how he seemed to light up whenever they happened on one another in hallways, mealtimes, or training sessions. He didn't like the way that he touched her, and his eyes lingered on her face and form. No one else could so quickly turn his mood black as the gentler of the two twins of Elrond.

He looked around to suddenly realize that he was again halfway up the hill between then archery range and the sparring grounds. Just by thinking about Elrohir, somehow his feet had carried him towards the offending Elven prince.

He stopped for a moment, unsure of whether it was wise to continue. But then Húrin walked into view, looking tired, sore, and slightly defeated. The look on her face made his decision quite easy.

Striding quickly up the rest of the hill, he brushed past Elrohir and Cuthalion, still in discussion and headed straight for Húrin, her chin still dripping with water.

She wore fitted tan leggings, light boots, and a loose white tunic kept in place by a leather belt around her waist. The belt had several loops that held a plain sword sheath kept in place by loops around her left leg. She looked at him with a confused expression for a moment and then looked downward toward the archery field, as though she were checking to see whether he was still down there.

"Legolas!" She greeted with surprise, looking again at him. Her eyes then moved back down to herself, covered in dirt and a little of her own blood. Her face fell a bit, knowing that her clothes were broadcasting just how poorly her training was going.

 _That bad?_ Legolas asked gently. _Sorry for distracting you earlier._ He added with a sheepish smile.

Húrin shook her head. _Nay, I am doing quite poorly enough on my own. I can in no way blame you for my poor performance today._ Her face downcast she added, _Or every day before this._

Legolas gave a sympathetic smile. _I know it took me years before I didn't end up on the ground within seconds of starting to spar._

 _I do not have years!_ Húrin snapped a little too quickly. Reining herself in a bit, she exhaled sullenly. _I understand the movements of trees and how I can move them to my advantage. I am not used to dealing with objects in motion that are not in my thoughts or under my control._

He thought about this for a moment. _Everything has a language. The language of sparring is no different than that of the trees. You just need to learn how to read it. Perhaps it would be helpful to see through my eyes, and how I read the language of my opponent._

Húrin tapped her chin thoughtfully. She had not observed many matches or elves fighting. Come to think of it, sitting and observing was something she was rather good at. It was how she first became familiar with the trees, and if anything, Legolas's idea couldn't hurt.

She nodded. _I would like to see how you think through the situation._

Legolas and Húrin had done this before. Through their training with Glorfindel, they could see through the other's eyes, almost as though one body is able to accomodate two minds for a short period of time. Húrin stepped away from the sparring ground, took a seat on the ground crossing her legs, and closed her eyes as though she were meditating. She centered herself on Legolas, and for a moment, an almost indiscernible shudder ran through Legolas's body.

 _Comfortable?_ He asked with a small smirk in his mind.

Húrin's consciousness gave a feeling of disapproval, quickly followed by indignation. _Just do what we agreed please._

Legolas, still feeling playful, and even a bit gleeful now, looked down the sparring ground. This was perfect. He had a chance before him to not only best Elrohir, but to do it with Húrin in the best seat possible. He was practically dancing on the inside with excitement.

"Elrohir!" He called pleasantly. "Would you honor me by sparring with me?"

Elrohir looked at him quizzically, and then at Húrin sitting with her eyes closed in the grass.

"Is this for the sake of Húrin's training?" He guessed.

Legolas nodded. "For the moment, we share the same mind. We thought it may be better to observe once or twice."

Elrohir looked at Legolas, even more suspicious than before. "You are of the same mind at this moment? Who then am I speaking to? Húrin or Legolas?"

Legolas gave a small chuckle. "She merely shares space with me at the moment. A guest of my mind. She will get to see how I process when I engage blades."

Elrohir's skeptic look did not fade. "Are you so sure that it is your process that is best to observe? Perhaps someone with more experience would be a better teacher for her."

Elrohir eyed Húrin with a look of concern and longing that drove a spike of anger into Legolas's otherwise giddy mood. What bothered Legolas even more was the feeling of agreement that came from Húrin's consciousness.

"You are not able to connect with her in the way that I can." Legolas said through gritted teeth, trying very hard not to sound hostile. "You know this. Do not make foolish suggestions that do not edify the situation. This is the best alternative to Húrin being beaten down into the ground over and over again." Legolas shot a pointed look at Cuthalion, who did not respond.

Elrohir's brow furrowed. "And you wish to spar with me?" He directed the question at Legolas, though his eyes moved to rest on Húrin.

Legolas uttered no words, but unsheathed his long mithril knives in response.

Looking apprehensive, but still gazing at Húrin, Elrohir slowly unsheathed his own sword. Taking his eyes off of Húrin, he looked at Legolas, apprehension still plain on his face as he got into his fighting stance.

Neither moved for what may have been a long time, but it seemed very short to Húrin, as Legolas was sharing his thought process with her.

 _His stance is neutral, which is a good idea. It means that your opponent can quickly react in every direction. On the other hand, Elrohir is still looking a little apprehensive, which means that he is likely taking more weight on his back foot. This will make front and back movement easy for him, but side to side, quite difficult. We can either bring this to his attention by attacking low and from the side, which may lead to us to having a slight advantage for a half second or so. However, Elrohir is a skilled and experienced opponent, that will not be enough to give us enough time to really gain the upper hand On the other hand, if we can lull him into security by making him make only forward and back movements, we may be able to increase that advantage when we do choose to strike from the side._

Legolas's thoughts went swiftly, analyzing so quickly that Húrin struggled to keep up.

And then, almost before she knew what was happening, Legolas moved. He launched himself across the short space, blades held at the ready. Húrin remembered learning the moves that she saw before her eyes in some of her training with Cuthalion, but she had never seen them so quickly, easily flowing from one into the next. The other facet that impressed her was the three dimensionality of Legolas's fighting. He was low, he was to the right, the upper left. He twisted and turned so that basic techniques hit different areas than they were intended. He was creative and resourceful, and he knew how to use momentum of his opponent against him. It was almost like an elaborate dance.

Húrin continued to hear Legolas's thoughts as the sparring wore on, though now he did not have the time to explain as he had before. Each movement had reason and intention though his body knew them so well that they had long become second nature.

It had maybe only been 30 seconds of fighting when Húrin began to feel something stir within Legolas that felt dreadfully familiar. It was almost like the cold that had threatened to spread through her at Amon Lanc. As the fighting intensified, she could feel the cold, jagged, unnatural melody grow steadily in her ears. Through Legolas's eyes and thoughts, she could hear the malice growing. There was less calculating and more anger and intent to harm. His movements were less flowing now, and more stunted and brutal.

Seeing Elrohir begin to bend beneath his blows, panic rose in her. Quickly remembering her last experience with this kind of takeover, Húrin fought back with the strongest images she could muster that reminded her of the Music of the Ainur. Their dance on her 83rd day of begetting, first meeting him in the woods, the first time she heard the earth with Glorfindel, and the first time she heard the music of Spring.

At first Húrin thought that it might not be enough. The cold, harsh song, and her warm melody clashed within Legolas's mind, equal in intensity, neither gaining ground. Húrin lost focus of what was going on through Legolas's eyes. Her focus was all on how to stop the dissident melody.

And then, she thought of the moment three weeks ago, when he had told her "I forgive you" in such soft tones, and barely grazed the side of her face with his finger tips. The jagged melody wavered for a moment, flickering against hers, and then suddenly it shifted. It did not weaken as she had expected it to, it just changed.

A deep longing flooded every corner of her mind. Everything suddenly was colored by a sense of loneliness, longing for companionship, and attraction. The whiplash was too much and she was forced out of Legolas's mind.

With a startled gasp, her eyes fluttered open. Looking down, she quickly realized she was back in her own body. Still slightly panicked, she looked up, seeing Legolas sprawled out on the sparring ground with a very exhausted Elrohir poised above him, sword to his throat.

Húrin yelled out, " _Daro [Stop]_! Do not harm him, I do not believe he has mastery of himself." She ran forward to where Legolas lay on the ground, looking extremely dazed.

"Húrin?" He managed to croak out, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion as he looked at her peering down at him.

Looking down with both concern, and a level of distrust, she touched his arm. "I am here. Are you alright Legolas?"

Legolas took his other hand and rubbed his head as though he had been struck and was trying to remember where he was. "What happened?"

Looking furtively at Elrohir who gave a small shake of his head, she responded truthfully, "I don't know exactly."

Elrohir was still looking at Húrin. "Was this informative for you Húrin?"

She looked over at him. His face was smeared with dirt, and there were bruises on his arms that were already purpling, but his expression was one of concern. Not for himself, but directed at her.

"I would not have you continue in this." Húrin narrowed her eyes again at Elrohir's injuries and then swiveled her gaze to Legolas, who was now sitting up and seemed to have recovered most of his bearings.

"I would have us speak alone." Húrin said, a cold edge to her voice.

Elrohir, concerned, and still confused, looked between the two elves, Legolas also looking confused, while Húrin's face had frozen into a mask.

Nevertheless, Elrohir stood, brushing himself off and began to head towards the stables, leaving the two alone.

Húrin continued to stare at Legolas with an icy gaze that chilled him more than any horde of orcs had ever done.

"What?" He asked, genuinely slightly frightened.

"Your rage." Húrin said accusingly.

Immediately, Legolas wilted at those words. He knew exactly what she was talking about.

"I thought it was getting better." She continued, disappointment evident in her face as she crossed her arms.

"It was! Er- is." He winced at the slip.

"Then why was it that I had to stop you from harming Elrohir?! Why did I feel as though I were fighting against Sauron's control in _your_ mind?" Húrin exclaimed exasperatedly.

"I have it under control!" Legolas raised his voice defensively. "It's just Elrohir! He is infuriating! The longer I trade blows with him, I just, I cannot, you see, urrgh!" Legolas threw his hands up in frustration. He was struggling with words for something he didn't know how to express.

Stopping in his frustration for a moment, he thought for a moment. "How did you fight it down Húrin?"

"The music that flows through all who wish to do the will of the Ainur is similar. When the rage rises within you, that melody changes to one that does not align with the rest of the music around you. I," she paused trying to think of the right word, "try to modify the melody with the correct notes and feelings to bring it back to where it should be."

"What has Elrohir ever done to wrong you?" Húrin asked, her tone still had an edge to it.

"He," Legolas again fumbled for words, "He, he just thinks he has a right to everything."

Legolas looked at Húrin's face of incredulity, and then muttered, "I do not believe the way he looks at you is with sincerity or pure intentioned thoughts."

The disappointment melted off of Húrin's face in an instant, replaced by bewilderment.

"The way he looks at me?"

Legolas could feel the blood beginning to pool in his ears, an unfortunate sign of embarrassment he had never seemed to shake.

"Don't worry about it." He mumbled, turning so he was no longer looking Húrin in the face.

But Húrin was unwilling to drop it. "Legolas Thranduilion, brother of my own mind, what is it that has caused rage to stir in your heart again?"

It came off more like a command from an interrogator, and Legolas found himself forced to look back into her green eyes again. He was stuck. He didn't want Húrin to understand how he felt about her just yet, there were so many places their friendship needed to be repaired first. He half thought that with how many times he had pretended to be her friend in order to gain something from her, she might not even believe any kind of confession he made now. He had tried to manipulate her through her feelings one too many times. On the other hand, he couldn't think of any other reason to explain the rage that bubbled within him as he had sparred with Elrohir. He couldn't deny the feeling either. Húrin had witnessed and felt it herself.

With a resigned sigh, he began, "Húrin I-"

"Legolas! Húrin! The other Maiar have arrived and are already in counsel, Saruman himself has asked for your presence."

* * *

 **Thanks for reading! Please review (:**


	14. Chapter 12: In Motion

**A/N: Thanks for sticking with this! Hope you enjoy (:**

 _Dramatis Personae_

Legolas/princeling - son of King Thranduil (86 yo)

Hurin/aew - daughter of Methedras, singer of the trees (83 yo)

King Thranduil - Ruler of Eryn Galen (age unknown)

Mithrandir/Olorin - One of the 5 Maiar sent by the Ainur (sent in the TA)

Glorfindel - Reincarnated elf with great (unknown) powers, was a great warrior in the FA, sent by the Ainur in 1600 SA

Elladan - son of Elrond, on loan to King Thranduil (970 yo)

Elrohir - son of Elrond, on loan to King Thranduil (970 yo)

Arwen Undomiel - daughter of Lord Elrond (658 yo)

Finglas - member of the Woodland guard (126 yo)

* * *

Nature's first green is gold,  
Her hardest hue to hold.  
Her early leaf's a flower;  
But only so an hour.  
Then leaf subsides to leaf.  
So Eden sank to grief,  
So dawn goes down to day.  
Nothing gold can stay.

-Robert Frost

oo

00

oo

 ** _1100 of the Third Age_**

 ** _Outside the Palace of the Elven King (Eryn Galen)_**

"I do not accept it!" Húrin huffed storming out of the council chamber. "I can not believe this!"

Legolas ran after her, close on her heels.

Spinning suddenly to face him, fire in her eyes, she bore down on him. "Are you going to stand for this Legolas Thranduilion?! You know of the threat. How can we stand here and do nothing.?"

Legolas put up his hands, in a calming motion and replied in a soothing tone, "Húrin, no one is suggesting that we do nothing."

"It is nothing and you know it Legolas! We did a reconnaissance mission, we know what resides in that cursed hill!" Húrin's voice almost breaking..

Coming closer, Legolas took ahold of both of her arms. "We are not doing nothing, Mithrandir is as outraged as you are, probably more so. You know he will not rest until he has assuaged his fears of what lies in the heart of Dol Guldur."

Setting her chin, she fixed him with a firm gaze. "You know that this is merely a pretense. They do not believe my report. I spoke the black language in those very halls and they brush it aside. You know very well that would it have been Elrohir or Elladan who spoke it, Lord Elrond would have sprung into action!"

Legolas opened his mouth to protest but she shoved his arms off of her and continued her tirade.

"They all believe in the council that my heart is weak, and my mind untrustworthy. That is the only way I can account for how they have voted. Only you, Glorfindel, and Mithrandir stand with me because you can see into my mind and have no reason for distrust."

Legolas, still trying to gently reason with her closed the space that she had imposed between them. "They have no reason to believe that you have changed in your resolution, that you have grown greatly in heart and mind."

Húrin huffed in frustration. "Your _ada_ [father] would have the rest of the lands of all Middle Earth burn and be swallowed by Melkor and for what?! He means for you and I to hunt down the pack that killed your mother and cares for naught else. Dumb beasts who have been reduced of care or remorse." She shot a knowing glance at Legolas.

Stilled by the mention of his mother, and her speaking so freely and coarsely of his father, Legolas fixed Húrin with a cold gaze of his own. "Can you blame him? For not trusting you? For feeling betrayed? For feeling anger in his every breath since her death?" His eyes narrowed with every question, challenging Húrin's gaze. He did not regret his vote, though he knew he would pay for it later with his father.

She looked back through narrowed eyes of her own before spinning away angrily.

"No!" She shouted into the sky, "I cannot! And that is why I must make this right!" clenching her fists in frustration at her sides. Her breathing was heavy, but her tantrum short as she her anger quickly gave way to shame.

"And they will not let me." She said dejectedly at the ground.

"Perhaps you now understand better the urgency I felt when I first asked you to help me all those years ago." Legolas continued to level at her, coldness still tainting his demeanor.

Húrin shot him a glare over her shoulder. "Do not make this about _you_ , Legolas. I know my faults of the past and I have owned to them. This is entirely different than the time you wished to lay waste to foul creatures for the satisfaction of a bloody revenge."

Legolas flinched a little, and realizing he had gone too far, softened his demeanor, taking a step towards her.

She stayed out of reach, however, not coldly but deliberately, looking out at the trees that bordered the palace. "This is about the fate of Middle Earth. If Sauron is truly rising, then there is need to fear in every creature and forest. I am of the woods, one of the _Galadhrim_ , and I must do my part in ending this before it has begun."

Looking back at him grimly, she gave a small nod in salute. "I must go and speak with Mithrandir."

Legolas watched her go, torn for not the first time. He burned with the desire to go and evict Sauron from Dol Guldur. This was his home, his forest, he was named for the trees and beauty that was here. To think of Sauron residing in the home of his grandfather, slaughtering whoever came through almost made him see red again. But he had seen his father during the council. In all his years of brooding and ill temper, he had never crossed his father, not once. Not even when he had demanded that Legolas defeat one of the twins before he was allowed on patrols, keeping him from what he desired most.

His father was adamant that ridding the immediate area, keeping the forests nearer to their home now was more important. What did he care about a fool's errand fighting the world's battles when his own home had already suffered such loss. Perhaps he could be reasoned with, but not now. Legolas had noticed that seeing Húrin always put his father in a foul mood, and a life would spring to his eyes that would make the most hardened of the Woodland Guard quake in their boots.

Sighing, he went off to train on the archery field to help quiet his mind and turmoil of emotions.

Grasping his bow, he began to fire downfield, wishing not for the first time that he had begun his training much earlier in life. He shot until his quiver was empty. Most of the shots had landed within the first three rings and he tore out the ones that had gone astray with evident frustration.

Out of habit, he glanced up at the sparring grounds, expecting to see it empty. To his surprise, he saw Húrin, practicing stances against a wooden dummy. From her movements, he could also tell she was working out some frustration as her punches were hard, and her balance nearly off.

Stowing his bow, he jogged up the hill. Sweat covered her brow and though her hair was back in a braid, loose strands created a halo from which beads sprayed off in every direction.

 _Have you come to correct my form?_ Húrin's voice appeared in his mind, bitterness in its every note as she continued to punch and kick away at the wooden man.

 _No,_ Legolas thought back gently, _merely to provide a better partner than one made of wood._

Húrin looked at him, an expression of amusement and surprise in her face. _You have never offered to spar with me before._

 _I take it that Mithrandir was not forthcoming with his plans._ Changing the subject, as he selected some wooden knives for himself.

Húrin's face became serious again. _He says I am ill trained and not ready._

She paused for a moment in her fervor and stared vehemently at the wooden man. _He's not wrong._

Beginning her assault once again, she continued. _I believe even he has his doubts about what I truly heard. And even if I am correct, he pointed out that it's no guarantee that it was Sauron who spoke the words. Saruman has denied it to be a possibility._

Legolas selected some wooden knives from the rack and threw them towards her which she caught deftly mid punch.

Looking down at the knives, she looked up at him blankly. _I have never used these before._

 _Then I shall teach you_. He said patiently.

"Let's put aside the formal learning forms for a moment. You have taught yourself many things naturally. I am going to come at you slowly, and we'll just see how you react to my approach." Legolas instructed, readying himself.

Húrin nodded and crouched herself, ready for him to strike.

Legolas moved towards her. She could tell that his movements were restrained and his footsteps seemed slow and deliberate. Instinctively, she moved to block one of his knives and twisted to dodge the other.

He smiled. "That was good! There is a great advantage in dual knives. While one defends, another may attack. If you are able to defend one knife and dodge the other, that will leave you free to attack with the other knife. Look for an opening."

Húrin nodded and crouched down again.

They went on in this way for many hours. Almost all of the attempts left Húrin sprawled on the ground, but she was making real progress, she could feel it. Legolas was still moving at what he considered to be his slowest pace, but she had to start somewhere, and this method seemed to be effective.

"Care to switch up the partners?" A voice called.

Both Húrin and Legolas looked over. So engrossed they had been in sparring that they had failed to notice that they were no longer alone.

Elrohir, as well as several maidens and members of the Woodland Guard had gathered to watch.

Húrin looked around at the elves gathered and then gave Legolas an incredulous look. _How has a crowd ensued when it is merely the defeating of a truly unworthy opponent over and over again?_

Legolas also looked confused, and then concerned. _I do not know._

Realizing that neither of them had answered, Legolas gave a small bow, and addressed the small crowd. "To whom will I be issued a challenge? I will gladly spar with any number of you."

A female member of the guard with golden blonde hair and striking features stepped forward. "I am Finglas, and though I have never had the honor of traveling in your party, I have heard tell of your great prowess in battle."

Legolas bowed and moved so that he was in a different sparring ring than Húrin. Húrin, still confused, tried to scan for the _glir_ of this new elf. She didn't recognize her, though there did seem to be something familiar about her.

A hand came to rest on her shoulder, breaking Húrin's concentration on the _glir_ of Finglas. She looked up to see Elrohir, looking at her in a kindly way.

"I saw that the council was trying for you young Húrin. How are you faring?" He said quietly. His voice was always like a gentle caress to her emotions, smoothing them.

Húrin, not wanting to divulge everything all at once heaved a sigh. "My feelings are...complicated… on the matter."

Elrohir nodded with understanding, squeezing her shoulder and then resting his attention on the challenge that was about to take place in front of them.

"Why are there so many elves here?" Húrin whispered to Elorohir, motioning with her eyes toward the crowd.

Elrohir smiled knowingly, "Not every kingdom has a young prince who is so fair in his features."

Húrin winced and rolled her eyes. "That is distasteful."

Elrohir smirked, a rather unbecoming reaction, but he was glad to know that Húrin at least was not swayed by the prince's good looks.

In front of them, the two elves began to clash. Húrin quickly realized that this Finglas was a very adept at fighter, graceful and quick. It appeared that Legolas was having trouble pinning her down. It looked to be evenly matched from her perspective. Wooden blades whirled as what looked like an elaborate, yet deadly dance unfolded before her.

"She is quite skilled." Húrin whispered to Elrohir, not taking her eyes from the sparring match.

Elrohir nodded, whispering back. "It is customary in a challenge to test one another's defenses before really engaging. Finglas is indeed a skilled warrior, but Legolas is only toying with her at the moment."

Húrin looked at Legolas in awe. She had seen him fight in the halls of Dol Guldur but there had been so much else going on then, she had not really been paying attention. This was him merely toying with someone? She had such a long way to go she thought miserably.

She turned to Elrohir. "Would you spar with me? I know that I have little experience and even less skill, but I would be honored if you would teach me."

Smiling earnestly now, Elrohir nodded. "It would be my pleasure young Húrin."

He selected a long wooden blade from the row on the wall and moved to the opposite side of the ring.

"What have you learned thus far?" He asked, indicating the twin knives in her hands.

She shook her head. "I have learned very little. This is my first time even grasping the handle of such weapons."

"If you were to naturally hold the knives and ready yourself for attack, what would you do?" Elrohir questioned, examining her.

Húrin thought for a moment and adjusted her grips, now holding the knives so that the blade pointed down, running along her forearms, and then crouched low, nearly touching the ground.

Elrohir continued to examine her, walking over and circling her, a crease growing in between his brows.

"I am not sure that this is the weapon that is suited for you." He mused out loud. "A long handled sword may be better. You are a small, agile fighter, and judging from how you move the trees, extension and vision are your strong suits. Have you tried a sword?"

Húrin again shook her head, getting up from her crouch.

Elrohir went back to the weapons rack and sizing up Húrin, selected a long thin wooden saber. Moving back towards her, he took both the small knives that she held out for him, his fingers brushing her open palms. For a moment, she thought that she saw a slight hesitation before he gently placed the saber into her now empty hands. His eyes definitely lingered on hers for longer than necessary, unsettling her a bit, and yet she could not look anywhere else.

Turning away, he walked back to the other side of the ring.

"Feel its weight in one hand and then the other. Feel the air around the blade as you move it swiftly. This is an extension of you. The hum of this blade is to be an echo of the nerves in your fingers." He instructed, demonstrating by swinging his sword through the air, tossing it effortlessly from hand to hand, never losing momentum.

Húrin gave a few experimental swings with her right arm, and then her left. She did like the feel of this sword. It felt like a more natural extension than any weapons she had tried before. Switching hands was difficult though, and she often dropped the sword between exchanges.

Elrohir chuckled. "It is very difficult to learn both hands at once," he admitted, "But a swordsman who is a threat off of either side is a fierce thing. Particularly for you, I believe that one or other of your hands is often preoccupied with branches. Being able to defend off of either side is essential. Even when both hands are free, you have infinitely more possibilities and versatility when you are ambidextrous with the blade."

She gave a little frown but nodded regardless.

Elrohir began to come at her slowly and as they moved he corrected, telling her how to better parry and redirect energy instead of taking hits straight on. He instructed on how to use momentum to shift an opponent's movement and direct them where you wanted to, how and when to transfer blade hands for unexpected and useful maneuvers.

Húrin may not have been an experienced fighter, but she was very coordinated and had quick reactions from dancing and flying through trees at top speed. This was beginning to feel natural, even more natural than when she had been using the dual knives.

Elrohir was extremely patient and continued to move slowly, giving her chances to correct and at times stopping completely in order to physically correct her stances or grips.

"I yield." Finglas huffed from beneath Legolas. She had kept his attention for a whole 3 minutes, or at least that was what she thought. She had been so nervous to meet him that she thought it may be better to start with something she excelled at. Her friends had advised her that she would not even last 30 seconds, but 3 minutes of undivided attention had been taken from the prince, and for that she was immensely proud of herself.

She then realized that though he was crouched over her, a knife to her throat, his eyes were narrowed at the sparring ring over where one of the sons of Elrond was instructing that tree singer that everyone was talking about.

Worry creeping in where there had been a sense of accomplishment, she lifted her hand in an effort to get his attention and help her up.

It took him a moment to realize that she had extended her arm and he pulled her up, barely looking at her.

"Good match, my prince. You are truly worthy of the words which are spoken of you." She called after his back, his whole attention turned toward the other ring.

"And what words are those Finglas?" He said distractedly, still facing away from her.

"That you are to be feared above all in battle. I have heard tell that your prowess is even spoken of in the halls of Elrond and Galadriel."

"Mmm" Was all the response that she received.

Not one to give up though she was growing more and more nervous, Finglas moved forward putting a hand on his shoulder from behind. "Come, teach me something I do not know."

Legolas, mentally sighing, but not one to brush off one of the guard turned towards her. "As you wish."

He turned back towards his own ring, and began to put her through the paces of a complicated pin.

 _I see that you have traded up._ Came the joking tone of Húrin in his mind.

Legolas laughed darkly in response. _I do not see it that way. Perhaps I could say the same to you._

 _Mmm_. She paused. _You may be a stronger warrior but Elrohir is a better teacher._

Legolas gritted his teeth, both an insult and a compliment, he did not know which affected him or his temper more strongly.

 _You are enjoying the use of a sword then?_ He asked.

 _It is the superior weapon for me I believe._ She responded. _It truly feels like an extension of myself._

He fought to keep from wrinkling his nose. He was not as adept with a sword and would not make a good teacher, regardless now.

From between the crowd, he noticed an elf approaching. It was Maeglin, the messenger of the King.

"Legolas, your father has sent for you. He wishes to speak with you in his chambers."

A little thankful and a little wary, Legolas quickly bowed to Finglas and ran to follow Maeglin.

Standing alone now in the ring, Finglas turned to watch him go. That did not go as it should have.

* * *

"I did not think I had to worry about the loyalties of my own son." hissed Thranduil, circling Legolas as they both stood in the throne room.

"I am loyal to you, _ada_. As I always have been." Legolas stated, chin in the air.

"Then why," His voice was dangerous and soft, like a coiled panther. "Did you vote with that useless _Galadhrim (tree singer)_? You know her to be a treacherous, cowardly excuse for an elf."

Legolas stiffened at that, but otherwise did not look affected. "I believe her. That is not taking a side, if she speaks the truth, we would be fools to not to act."

Thranduil turned away. "You call me a fool?" He asked calmly.

"No _ada_. I am merely paying heed to what I know to be true." Legolas said flatly. Do not portray emotion was something that he had learned very early on after his mother's death.

Changing tact, Thranduil again began pacing around Legolas. "You have a lot of faith in this tree singer. I have been watching you, my son." He paused as Legolas fought not to flinch. "You two are nearly inseparable. What can be the meaning of this friendship? I know you to have sworn her off many times."

"Have you not spoken to Glorfindel?"

"Oh, I have spoken to Glorfindel." He murmured softly, "I made sure to speak with him after you and Húrin created that monstrosity in our banquet hall."

Legolas raised an eyebrow at the word choice but stayed silent.

"He says that you two do not have affections for one another." Thranduil said slowly, watching Legolas intently.

"This is true, yes?" Thranduil asked when Legolas did not react.

"I cannot say for certain." He said, swallowing hard.

"Mmm," muttered Thranduil, examining his own fingers, "And why is that?"

"I do not know where her affections lie." Legolas stated truthfully.

"And yours?"

Legolas stayed silent.

"AND YOURS?!" Thranduil roared.

Legolas did not flinch, merely closing his eyes.

"I will not have you allied to your mother's murderer!" Thranduil continued to roar.

Breaking, Legolas spun towards him. "She is not her murderer! Even now she takes blame for actions that were not hers."

"You defend her?! When you know that your mother gave her life for this _elleth_ who REFUSED to avenge her death?"

Coming closer to his face, Legolas yelled back, tears beginning to start in his eyes, "You know that mother CHOSE to give her life for Húrin! It was not asked for. And since then Húrin has thought of nothing but to make the debt good. Her whole life has not been her own since the day you brought her here!"

"Oh, I am to blame now?" Thranduil hissed dangerously.

"No!" Bellowed Legolas. "But neither is she. _Ada,_ she is not even of age, and yet she is striving to take on her shoulders the problems of all Middle Earth!"

"If she is, it is about 80 years too late." The king replied darkly.

"What would you have her do?" Legolas retorted.

Thranduil looked straight back into Legolas's eyes, the piercing stare of a broken soul.

"Bring your mother back." He spat.

A tear fell from Legolas's eye. "You know that to be impossible."

Thranduil turned away, "Until it is, Húrin is no longer welcome in this kingdom."

Shocked, Legolas opened his mouth to protest.

Thranduil turned, his anger bubbling just below the surface in a way that made Legolas shiver. "I will not hear of any protest. This is your fault my son. Had you not become so close, I would not be pushed into doing this. But you have chosen poorly, so I must right your judgement. As we speak, she is escorted out of this kingdom. Do not speak of this again."

"Or what?" Legolas said hotly.

He gently stroked, Legolas's cheek, coming to rest, cupping his chin. For a moment, he almost felt as though his father was really looking at him, seeing the plea in his eyes, but then he saw Thranduil's eyes were far away. As though he was looking for something within Legolas, and he could not find it.

"You look so much like your mother." Thranduil murmured so softly that Legolas almost didn't hear it, his eyes still unfocused.

Legolas almost opened his mouth to ask his question again, but the expression on his father's face made it so that he could not find his voice. The question crumbled away as Thranduil's unfocused eyes stared past Legolas and then turned away.

"You are dismissed." Thranduil said absently waving his hand, his back already receding away from Legolas.

Hanging his head, Legolas let all the tears he had been trying to keep back fall of their own accord. Then, remembering what his father had said, he ran as fast as he could out of the throne room, winding his way back to the training grounds.

 _Húrin!_ His mind screamed. _Húrin!_

Panic rose as there was no response. He burst onto the training grounds, seeing Elrohir cleaning the wooden blades that he and Húrin had been using.

"Elrohir! Húrin! Where is she?" Legolas managed to say between deep breaths.

Elrohir, in his infuriating calm demeanor, clasped him on the shoulder, "She was taken the moment you left. She is now traveling back to Lothlorien with Arwen."

"I must go!" Legolas began to run in the general direction of the stables, but a firm hand grabbed his forearm.

He looked back to see Elrohir shaking his head gravely. "The King has forbidden that you leave."

"Forbidden?!" Legolas nearly screamed in frustration.

With sad eyes that made him loath Elrohir all the more, the son of Elrond took his shoulder in his other hand. No words were spoken, and yet they both knew the other to be in similar pain.

"I am not to leave either." Elrohir murmured softly. "Your father still claims his borders need protection, and my father wants to monitor Dol Guldur. Elladan and I are in the best position now to do so."

Legolas smiled bitterly. "Is your misery supposed to assuage mine?"

Elrohir chuckled. "Perhaps not, but it does love the company does it not?"

Legolas gave a scoff and then pulling himself free of Elrohir, began to walk away.

Elrohir took a step towards him, but Legolas held out his hand. "Do not concern yourself, I am merely going to my chambers."

Legolas wandered the halls for a little while, deeply indulging in self-pity, regretting every biting remark he had made towards Húrin during her short time back, before finally making back to his room. '

Opening the door, his despair was so great that he almost didn't notice that his whole apartments had been transformed. Looking up and around, he marveled at the intricate, silvery twistings of what used to be plain elm in his room. The patterns were reminiscent of his ceremonial braids and his mother's crest, and they gave a soft glow. In the middle of his bed lay a small piece of parchment with a bird sitting atop it patiently.

He ran over to the note, shooing away the bird, nearly ripping it open in his haste.

 _Dearest Legolas,_

 _By now I have gone out of reach of our bond. I am sorry that this is the way that we have left things, but know that I harbor no ill will towards you or your father for this present circumstance. There is much real hurt and I know that I am responsible for a great portion of it._

 _I already miss your presence, and I shall always consider you my closest friend. I wanted to thank you for always pushing me. You have stepped up in ways I have faltered and not allowed me to sit in unrealistic ideals. You have made me grow in only ways that you could have. Thank you for speaking truth and not holding back, even though it often ended in argument._

 _I want you to know that I will never stop the fight against the darkness and I hope with the deepest part of my heart that you do as well. I know your mind. Please do not succumb that which plagues our most hated enemies. Please Legolas. Do not allow yourself to become lost. My heart could not take it should you become one with the rage we have fought so hard to keep from our loved ones._

 _I do not know if you desire it, but I left a little reminder of me in your room, the silver branches have starlight sung into them and they are able to heal nonfatal wounds. If they are too much, you may place your hand on them and think of them how they were and they should go back. Also, I asked this kindly lark to deliver this note for you, so if you could give it some seeds for its trouble, I would greatly appreciate it._

 _My heart shall weep until I see you again Legolas,_

 _Húrin_

He read over and over the letter, and then looked over at the bird. Lucky little creature, Húrin must have sung into him his instructions. If only he could send her some back. He flopped onto his back in frustration. Why couldn't he sing into things as easily as she could?

The bird hopped up onto Legolas's chest, and gave him a little peck, obviously hungry. He looked at it and chuckled.

"Well, I suppose you have done me a service little one. Let us find you some seeds."

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